


Fill The Crown

by maximalist



Category: THE9 (Band), 青春有你2, 青春有你2 | Youth With You 2 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hitwoman/Bodyguard/Spy-ish?/Amalgamation-of-Every-Shady-Job-I-Could-Think-Of AU, Is this just 'The Godfather' but gay? You bet it is, More tags will be added if necessary as the story progresses, Organized Crime AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 91,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25082602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximalist/pseuds/maximalist
Summary: Kong Xueer takes on the job of a lifetime: for fifty-million renminbi, Xueer is hired to kill Xu Jiaqi, the crown princess to Shanghai's underworld and the only person that's keeping her father's criminal empire from falling apart.There's a catch, though. Xueer has to infiltrate the organization and pose as Jiaqi's bodyguard to get close enough to execute the hit.
Relationships: Kong Xue'er/Xu Jiaqi
Comments: 31
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When your only options are fifty million renminbi or nothing at all, then is there _really_ any other choice to make? And besides, if Xueer really is as good as she believes she is, then ‘too pretty’ shouldn’t be a problem. She should be able to make this work.
> 
> That's why Xueer is here now, and in front of her stands her fifty million renminbi dressed up in an over-sized green button-down and loose blue denim trousers, looking more like the influencers Xueer sees on Instagram and Weibo than the crown princess to a criminal kingdom…
> 
> "You don't look like a bodyguard."
> 
> …and it seems like her fifty million renminbi is fucking insulting her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You must be thinking, "Is Izzy back with yet _another_ action AU?" Well, I'm here to say that yes. Yes, I am.
> 
> How this came to be is... kinda weird, I guess, because a friend and I were discussing which servant classes our QCYN2 picks would be in if they were in Fate/Grand Order (FGO), and we agreed that Xueer would definitely be an Assassin. I'm not going to go into that here because that's going to be a long discussion, but basically after that, I couldn't stop thinking about assassin!Xueer and then... well... this happened. As one of the tags states, this AU is an amalgamation of pretty much every shady or shady-ish job I could possibly think of, so make of that what you will. And after re-watching _The Godfather_ , I realized what I was writing was basically just _The Godfather_ but, you know, gay and with my CPop girls. Make of _that_ what you will.
> 
> Title credit: ['Fill The Crown'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fiH9YPSPNlA), by Poppy

Xueer has waited a long time for this.

Four and a half months, to be exact. Four and a half months of learning everything she can possibly learn about her target _and_ her would-be boss, Xu Jiaqi. Four and a half months of rigorous, merciless, and diligent preparation to play the part of the bodyguard to the crown princess of Shanghai’s underworld.

They pull up in front of the massive gates of the mansion. The security guards recognize the car immediately, and one of them gives the go signal to have the gates opened. As they drive by, the chauffeur exchanges curt nods of greeting with the guards. 

Xueer stares out the window of the passenger seat to take in her surroundings. She’d only ever seen the estate from afar during the times she would scout the perimeter, counting the guards, exits, vantage points, blind spots. Burning every detail to her memory. Even from the outside, the estate already looked as impressive and as grand as she expected it to be, but it’s still different actually being _inside_ and seeing everything up close… and from the comfort of a bulletproof Mercedes-Benz, no less.

How that came to be is that, apparently, Jiaqi insisted that her chauffeur pick up Xueer. Xueer knew nothing about that prior to today, though, so she was surprised to find the car waiting for her outside of her apartment building. She initially planned to just take her motorcycle to the Xu estate, just as she’s done a number of times in the weeks prior, but Xueer’s not complaining. The stingy part of her is even a little ecstatic about how this helps her save up on gas, even just a little bit.

The chauffeur holds the door open for Xueer. She remains firmly planted in her seat for a moment to take in a deep breath— _Here goes nothing_ —before finally stepping out of the car. She buttons her suit jacket, smooths out any folds or creases on her otherwise crisp attire. It's a classic black suit, something you could never go wrong with, paired with a plain white button-down and a slim black tie. Shuxin and Xiaotang helped her pick it out, along with the others they'd bought over the four-and-a-half-month preparation period they had for this contract. She got jackets, trousers, and dress shirts in standard black, navy blue, and even grey, just to spice things up a little. Xueer isn't a suit person at all, and if not for this job she probably never would have put on a suit _ever_ _,_ but hey: if she's going to be forced to dress like this every single day until this is all over, then she might as well have some fun with it and look good, right?

"Miss Jiaqi is waiting for you in the study," the chauffeur informs Xueer. "Mrs. Cai will lead you there."

Xueer looks over to the lady standing by the front door of the mansion, her back ramrod straight and chin held high and proud, but not haughty in any way. _That must be Mrs. Cai._

She turns her attention back to the chauffeur, offers him a polite smile, and says, "Thank you." He doesn't say anything, merely nodding back in response. Xueer doesn't really mind; not everyone can be Shuxin-levels of sociable or talkative, after all, and that's honestly a good thing in the grand scheme of things.

"You must be Jiaqi's new bodyguard," Mrs. Cai says as a greeting to Xueer. She eyes Xueer down from head to toe and hums to herself. Whether that's a hum of approval or a hum of disapproval, Xueer has no way to know.

Xueer bows in greeting. "I'm Kong Xueer. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Cai."

Mrs. Cai continues to gaze studiously at Xueer, neck craning as she looks up at the much taller young woman, before her face relaxes into a small smile. "The pleasure's all mine, Ms. Kong," she replies, now as warm and welcoming to Xueer as any other auntie might be, and Xueer decides she'll take that over hostility. According to the intel given to them, Mrs. Cai has been with the Xus since time immemorial basically, so the last thing Xueer wants to do is get on her bad side, much less on her first day on the job. She steps to the side and waves her hand towards the open door. "Right this way."

Mrs. Cai leads the way, with Xueer in tow. Xueer quietly scans her surroundings, taking in as much of the mansion as she can. High ceilings and large windows, stylish and plush (and probably European) furniture, paintings by artists whose names Xueer either doesn't know or can't pronounce, an ostentatious chandelier that hovers above the staircase, way too much space than any person could possibly ever need—well, this is a mansion, alright. A very rich person lives here, alright. Even the carpet draped over the staircase feels _rich_ under Xueer's feet, if that even makes sense at all. It's also very, _very_ quiet, with the sheer size of the mansion only amplifying the nothingness of it all. It's eerie.

Finally, they stop in front of large, heavy wooden doors. "Here we are," Mrs. Cai tells Xueer, then she pushes one door open, stepping aside to make way for Xueer. Turning her face towards the inside of the room, she says, "Miss Jiaqi, Mr. Yang—Ms. Kong Xueer is here."

Xueer steps into the study. She walks towards Jiaqi and Mr. Yang and bows at a perfect ninety degree angle. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Xu, Mr. Yang," she greets them. She straightens her posture, hands clasped behind her back, chest out and shoulders back. Tall, proud and strong.

Standing behind Jiaqi is Mr. Yang. His eyes dart back and forth between Jiaqi and Xueer, and for a moment his gaze lingers on Xueer, knowing and dark, but Xueer focuses all of her attention on the woman standing before her instead. 

Her target. Her ward. This is Xu Jiaqi, live and in the flesh. All those months that Xueer spent poring over intel and preparing for every possible eventuality has finally led her to this moment…

…and it's not quite playing out the way she'd expected.

See, all the information they were given about Xu Jiaqi painted her as a generally bubbly and amicable person. Her sharp, cutting features might make her seem cold and unapproachable, but that really was not the case, apparently. And the way Mr. Yang talked about her, Xueer had gotten the impression that Jiaqi was somewhat naive, too kind and trusting for her own good. Too _honest_ for her own good. Xueer didn’t want to jump to conclusions, of course, because she’s never even met Jiaqi prior to today, and she firmly believes that there’s just no way Jiaqi would be able to command the respect of her father’s men if she _were_ an airhead or something. 

But Xueer also didn't expect her to be like—like _this_.

The way Jiaqi is looking at Xueer is… intense, to say the least. Xueer has dealt with some truly terrifying men and women in the past, but none of them had ever looked at her the way Jiaqi is looking at her now. The weight of her gaze is so tangible that Xueer feels like she could get crushed by it like a tin can that’s found its way to the bottom of the ocean.

Xueer’s heart thunders in her ears.

_Does she know?_

It should go without saying that Xueer is _fucked_ if Jiaqi actually knows or suspects something is not right about all this. There’s a part of Xueer that’s confident that Jiaqi is absolutely clueless about Xueer’s true reason for being here, because in the short time Xueer has gotten to know Mr. Yang, she’s learned just how much of a devious, scheming bastard he really is, grandiose in his ambitions but careful in his methods. Xueer’s but a small piece of his puzzle. Just one of the many, many cogs in the machine he’s painstakingly built under the noses of the very people he plans to overthrow.

The way Jiaqi is looking at her, however, makes another, much smaller part of Xueer doubt herself. Doubt Mr. Yang, even, despite how cunning he might be. Her gaze is—it’s _piercing_. It’s like a sharp knife has been wedged into the meat of her heart and it cuts right through to the deepest, darkest recesses of her soul where she keeps the truth buried. 

Yuxin is the only person Xueer’s ever known to look at her with that kind of piercing, terrifying clarity and understanding. Even then, she doesn’t remember Yuxin being _this_ intense.

She's tempted to look over to Mr. Yang and gauge his reaction to this little stare-off going on between herself and Jiaqi, see if he's thinking what she's thinking, but she knows that to break eye contact with Jiaqi would mean losing to her. Whether or not Jiaqi knows or suspects anything about Xueer is not something Xueer can confirm right now, but what she does know is that this must be some kind of test. Jiaqi is testing her, and if Jiaqi is testing her, then that means if she looks away now, even for a fraction of a fraction of a second, she'd lose somehow. Xueer's not going to let that happen, obviously, especially not to the person who's supposed to be at her mercy.

A bead of sweat rolls down the back of Xueer's neck as she and Jiaqi continue to size each other up. Xueer isn't even sure anymore how long they've been going at this. It could have been a minute or two or five. Could have been an hour. Could have been an eternity and a half. While she refuses to lose, she also kind of just wants this ridiculous… _thing_ to end already. They're going to bore holes into each other's skulls if they keep this up.

Then, finally, Jiaqi's gaze softens, all the unnerving sharpness from earlier replaced with a playful kind of fascination as she slips her hands into the pockets of her trousers and tilts her head to the side. The corner of her mouth tugs up.

"You don't look like a bodyguard.

* * *

This was all Shuxin and Xiaotang's _brilliant_ idea. Okay, it was mostly _Shuxin’s_ idea, because it’s Shuxin’s job to talk to clients and assign people to them. 

Shuxin actually _is_ pretty good at her job. The thing about her is that, unlike everyone else she works with, she is not and has never been particularly gifted at combat. And she doesn’t really _have_ to be, not in this managerial, social glue niche she’s filled for her lucrative network of freelancers. Shuxin didn’t even need to be the one pulling the trigger to be frightening, because she’s plenty frightening in her own way. Xueer has yet to meet anyone who can deal with clients the way Shuxin can. Xueer chalks it up to the fact that Shuxin is as shameless as a person can get, and perhaps that shamelessness lent itself to this air of fearlessness she has. Whoever it is, be it politicians, tycoons, weapons traffickers, the entire spectrum of people who want other people dead: Shuxin commands their respect like no one else can. 

Much as Xueer loves Shuxin to bits, though, she really would not have taken on this job if she just had a choice.

First of all, and if Xueer's going to be completely and painfully honest with herself, she knows she looks _nothing_ like a bodyguard.

People always used to mock her for being 'too much of a princess’, especially for someone in this line of work, even though Xueer could kick, scratch, claw, and kill her way out of anything just fine. Her commanding officers back during her days as cadet, the other cadets she trained with, literally everyone in Shuxin's shady network of freelance hitmen and spies. Should have just stuck to dancing, they said, you're too pretty to be here. Too pretty, _always_ too pretty, and too dainty. Could you even throw a punch? The same shit, over and over and over, and Xueer used all the spite and frustration that had built up inside her to fuel her in her campaign to prove everyone wrong and, most importantly, _be better than them_ _._ She even became highly adept at utilizing her beauty, taking what everyone thought to be a weakness and turning it into one of the sharpest and deadliest weapons in her arsenal.

Xueer isn't confident in her capabilities for nothing. She's _earned_ that confidence and as she's grown older and more mature, she's learned to not give a fuck anymore about what people say about her. Let them run their mouths; Xueer will let her actions speak for her. Still... Xueer can't help but worry that maybe, just maybe, Jiaqi won't take her seriously once she actually gets a good look at her.

Now for the second problem: the job is a hell of a tall order and _no one_ wanted anything to do with it. Even the most daring of Xueer's friends, Yu Yan and Xiaotang, turned down the offer and she can't even blame them for it. The job required whoever would be assigned to it to actually infiltrate and integrate herself into the organization, which is precisely the problem: this wouldn't be a no-strings-attached kind of job. This had _way too many_ strings attached. Get caught and tangled in all of that and you’re fucked. And this wasn't just _anybody_ that had to be killed. As far as somebodies go, Xu Jiaqi is _somebody_ , and killing her could mean getting yourself killed in the process. Nobody wants that. _Xueer_ doesn't want that, fuck no. No one in their right goddamn mind would want that. It's one thing to get on the bad side of the authorities, but to get on the bad side of Mr. Xu, who's practically the _god_ of the Shanghai underworld? That's a fucking death sentence.

One by one, everyone Shuxin contacted turned down the offer, much to her dismay but maybe not much to her surprise. So—

"That leaves us with you," Shuxin said, a face-splitting grin plastered on her face. The way she said it made it sound like Xueer had just won the lottery and not like she was about to be dropped right into a den of lions. Xiaotang just stared back blankly at Xueer when she looked to her for some form of help. "I _promise_ it's not as bad as you guys keep thinking it is! All you have to do is get in there, pose as Xu Jiaqi's bodyguard, cooperate with Mr. What's-His-Name—"

"Yang," Xiaotang interjected in a sigh, "It's _Mr. Yang._ "

"—and the job is done!" Shuxin had even clapped her hands on cue. "Obviously you can't just go in there and kill her on your first day then, like, disappear into thin air or whatever. Okay, this probably isn't as straightforward as any of the other jobs we've done before, we've got some _politics_ and some _drama_ involved here, but Mr. Yang's going to help us arrange everything for you. And hey, _hey_ —don't give me that look, Kong Xueer—I know what you're thinking: Xu's people might come after you after you kill Jiaqi. That's a valid concern, but Mr. What's-His-Face—"

"Yang," Xiotang supplied again.

"—promised that he wouldn't let it come to that. How exactly, I dunno, but we're just gonna have to take his word on it for now. It's complicated business, but hey, when has business _never_ been complicated for us anyway?"

Shuxin then explained there would be an opening for the bodyguard position—

("Wait," Xueer said, thoroughly confused, "what do you mean there _will_ be an opening?" The way Shuxin smiled made Xueer decide maybe she didn't want to know after all.)

—and Mr. Yang would organize everything, make it easy for Xueer to get in and get the job. She would be taking orders directly from him once she got in. It wasn't very often that their clients played a hands-on role, but Xueer knows better than to ask too many questions. After all, all that matters in the end is that the job is done. Gotta keep the clients happy, that kind of stuff. And they definitely had to keep _this_ man happy because—

_"Fifty million renminbi?!"_

Xueer nearly fell out of her seat when Shuxin announced just how much they were being paid to kill Xu Jiaqi. Hell, just the thought of how much _money_ that was got her hands all clammy, her mouth dry. Regardless of what percentage of that Xueer will be getting (and Shuxin has always been fair with everyone where money is concerned), she'd be sure to walk out of this one with more money than her pockets can hold. More than enough money to clear out all the shelves in every single makeup store in China. More than enough money to keep her family living a safe and comfortable life. She probably wouldn't need to take on a new contract in a while after this too, not for another year at least. She could spend that time back home.

At that moment, Xueer knew there was no way she could walk away from this and not feel any regret. When would someone come knocking on their door again with an offer like that? As far as Xueer can recall, this is the most expensive hit they've ever been contracted to execute—the most expensive hit _she's_ been contracted to execute.

When your only options are fifty million renminbi or nothing at all, then is there _really_ any other choice to make? And besides, if Xueer really is as good as she believes she is, then ‘too pretty’ shouldn’t be a problem. She should be able to make this work.

That's why Xueer is here now, and in front of her stands her fifty million renminbi dressed up in an over-sized green button-down and loose blue denim trousers, looking more like the influencers Xueer sees on Instagram and Weibo than the crown princess to a criminal kingdom…

"You don't look like a bodyguard."

…and it seems like her fifty million renminbi is fucking insulting her.

Truthfully, it's silly for Xueer to even feel offended because she said something similar to Shuxin and Xiaotang when they approached her about the contract: _"I don't_ look _like bodyguard material."_ She dyed her hair back to a more natural and nondescript brunette, hit the gym even harder and put her body through hell every single day, even filled her closet to the brim with suits and even more tactical gear than she already has. She's done everything she possibly can to look the part, to fake it til she makes it, to live and breathe it—but there'll always be that part of her deep down that doesn't think she's fit to play the part at all. That said, Xueer probably shouldn't get annoyed at Jiaqi for basically just saying out loud what Xueer also thinks of herself anyway.

_But…_

Xueer knows that the smart and polite thing to do is hold her tongue, take the comment in stride, and kiss Jiaqi's ass a little. She could just laugh like she means it, hide any disdain or annoyance she feels behind her most saccharine smile. She could also just say nothing at all because, again, the less said, the less mistakes made. All of those are _logical_ options, and if there's something Xueer prides herself in being, it's _logical._ Everything she's done to get to this point and everything she will have to do from here on out, she's calculated with a cold, frightening precision. She knows exactly what she needs to do to get what she wants from Jiaqi.

_But…_

But Xueer can't help herself, and Jiaqi struck her where it hurts, so she puts in as much bite as she can behind her reply to Jiaqi: "Too pretty?"

Xueer has the satisfaction of seeing genuine surprise written all over Jiaqi's face, but it doesn't last too long. Her lips curl back into an amused smirk as she cocks a brow at Xueer. Something about it makes Xueer's entire body flush white-hot, like there's molten lava bubbling just right beneath her skin, like there's lightning coursing through her veins. It's all at once suffocating and intoxicating.

Xueer feels her cheeks heat up. Embarrassed that her comeback backfired on her and just generally so confused, the only thing she can think is: _What the fuck?_

Mr. Yang clears his throat, effectively bursting the bubble Jiaqi and Xueer had built around themselves. The both of them turn their attention to Mr. Yang as he says, "Ms. Kong, I… apologize for Jiaqi's comment." He offers Xueer an apologetic smile. He looks over at Jiaqi pointedly as he adds, "She can be a little tactless sometimes, as you can see."

"Why, Uncle, that’s just mean of you," Jiaqi retorts, and Mr. Yang chuckles softly. Jiaqi looks back at Xueer and very sincerely tells her, "But, really, I apologize if I offended you. I didn't mean it in a bad way."

 _So in what way did you mean it, then?_ Xueer thinks, temper flaring again for a moment before she extinguishes it.

"Let's start over," Jiaqi suggests. She walks up to Xueer and offers her hand. Xueer takes Jiaqi's hands into her own and gives it a firm squeeze. "It's nice to meet you, Xueer," she says warmly, lips curling into a much softer smile, something entirely different from the self-assured smirks she'd given Xueer earlier.

"It's nice to meet you too, Ms. Xu," Xueer replies around a tight smile. She retracts her hand back to her side, but her skin burns where Jiaqi touched her. She watches Jiaqi slip her own hand back into her trouser pocket and wonders if she's feeling the same sensation Xueer is feeling.

“Dad wanted to join us for this meeting,” Jiaqi tells Xueer, “but his health won’t permit him to, unfortunately. I hope you understand.”

“Of course,” Xueer replies. She remembers to throw in a smile, for show.

"What happened with Jiaqi's last bodyguard was… rather unfortunate," Mr. Yang says before taking a sip of his tea, the steam from the cup rising up to his glasses and fogging them. After the _pleasantries_ from earlier, they gathered at the couches to discuss business. Mrs. Cai brought them tea and scurried out of the room as quietly as she had entered. Beside Mr. Yang, Jiaqi sighs, "It's a shame. He was a bit of a stick in the mud, but he did grow on me."

In the back of Xueer’s mind, she thinks, _Well, this must be what Shuxin meant when she said there_ 'will' _be an opening._ Honestly, it's none of her business anyway—and it's not like knowing what happened to the guy before her would help make her life easier—but she's still curious about it all the same.

As he wipes the fog from his glasses, Mr. Yang explains, sounding so extravagantly hurt and betrayed, "We discovered that he'd been giving highly confidential information about Jiaqi and our organization to the… I won't name names, but let’s just say the people he was doing business with aren’t exactly _fans_ of Jiaqi or her father and are more than willing to take advantage of our situation right now."

Xueer quietly sips her tea. _You don’t say._

“None of us could believe it. _We_ couldn’t believe it. I can’t even begin to guess _why_ he’s decided to turn on us like that, especially after all the kindness we’ve shown him over the time he worked for us, but—” Mr. Yang puts his glasses back on and looks directly at Xueer. She recalls thinking there was something so dark and so sinister in his eyes when they first met to discuss the terms of the contract, and she still sees it in him now. What Xueer finds most unsettling, however, is his ability to mask that darkness whenever he needs to. Like now, for example, when he needs to play the role of a caring and loving uncle to Jiaqi. He smiles an _'oh, well'_ kind of smile and continues, “It doesn’t matter now. What's done is done, and we've _handled_ that matter already."

Upon hearing that, Jiaqi purses her lips in what looks like disapproval or distaste. Otherwise she doesn't say anything.

Xueer doesn't need to ask to understand what ‘handling’ the matter means. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the only way out of this world (and this is _Jiaqi's_ world now, whether she likes it or not) is death. And there's certainly no way you'd be allowed to walk away scot-free if you so much as _nip_ at the hand that feeds. Just look at the boss the wrong way and you'd probably lose a few fingers, which is already generous as far as punishments go.

Jiaqi and Mr. Yang begin to brief Xueer on her responsibilities, what to expect, what Jiaqi would be requiring of her, and on and on and on. Xueer listens and nods along attentively, trying her best to look as eager as she can about her new job. It's all pretty run of the mill stuff—be with Jiaqi at all times, protect Jiaqi at all costs, yada-yada—but Xueer would also be expected to be involved with matters outside of Jiaqi's personal security if need be. So ruffling some feathers, digging some ditches, putting people six feet under: that kind of stuff.

"But your priority will, of course, be Jiaqi," Mr. Yang says, placing a hand firmly on Jiaqi's shoulder. "Everything else is secondary to Jiaqi's safety." He smiles at Xueer then at Jiaqi, and it sends a shiver down Xueer's spine.

“Sir! Sir, wait—you shouldn’t be—”

Startled by the commotion outside, Xueer turns around in her seat just as the door to the study swings open and a man Xueer has only ever seen in pictures walks in, taking step after laborious step as his nurse scurries after him. Jiaqi leaps from her seat, lightning fast, and in no time she’s by her father’s side to support him as he walks. “Dad, what are you doing here?” she asks, brows knit in concern. “The doctor told you to rest, didn’t he?”

The nurse bows low and deep. She is visibly terrified. “I’m sorry Ms. Xu, Mr. Yang, I tried to stop him but—”

“Oh, hush now,” Mr. Xu says gently, hacking out a laugh, “I haven’t dropped dead yet, have I?”

 _“Dad!”_ Jiaqi exclaims.

“What?” Mr. Xu laughs again. “I was just joking, Kiki.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be making jokes like that,” Jiaqi murmurs.

Mr. Xu gently pats Jiaqi’s cheek and says, “Don’t worry about me, Kiki. I just wanted to meet the bodyguard Fuqing hired for you. It’s only right that I meet the person who’s supposed to guard my beloved daughter’s life, don’t you agree?”

Jiaqi relents with a sigh. She turns to the nurse and says, “It’s okay, I’ll handle it from here. It’s fine. Go on.” The nurse bows and meekly exits the study.

Xueer places her cup of tea back down on the coaster and stands up to formally greet and introduce herself to Mr. Xu. Mr. Yang assists Jiaqi in guiding Mr. Xu to the couch, which he slowly lowers himself onto. When he’s seated, Xueer bows and says, “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Xu. I’m Kong Xueer, and I’ll be Jiaqi’s bodyguard and head of security from today onwards.”

Mr. Xu takes a good look at Xueer’s face and remarks, “My… you’re quite young, aren’t you?”

Now Xueer knows where Jiaqi gets her knack for comments that she can’t even begin to decipher.

“Well, Jiaqi’s always on the move, so I figured it would be best to hire someone a little younger than you might have expected. Full of life and energy,” Mr. Yang jokingly explains to Mr. Xu, “so she can actually keep up with the breakneck speed of Jiaqi’s life. She was the best out of the bunch, too. Maybe even a little overqualified.”

Mr. Xu nods to himself. “If that is your assessment, then I have no reason to doubt it. Though I must say, I didn't expect you would pick a woman.”

“It’s the twenty-first century, Dad,” Jiaqi interjects. From the tone of Jiaqi's voice, Xueer senses that Jiaqi and her father must have had this conversation before. 'This conversation' being the kind of awkward ‘get with the times’ conversation you have with your parents over dinner. 

“Oh, come on now, Kiki, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Mr. Xu placates. He turns to Xueer and assures her, “I didn’t mean it like that, Ms. Kong.”

“It’s no problem,” Xueer replies. “If I may, sir, there _are_ certain benefits to hiring a female bodyguard over a male bodyguard. For one, female bodyguards are far less conspicuous than male bodyguards, which can provide us an element of surprise in times of emergency or in certain critical situations. And, of course, a female bodyguard is a more convenient option for female clients like Ms. Xu.” She pauses there and adds in more cheekily, as a jab at Jiaqi, “I suppose it’s a bonus too that there aren’t many other bodyguards out there that look like me.”

Jiaqi arches a brow, her brain just registering that, yes, Xueer _did_ just take a jab at her for her comment earlier, then a smile blooms on her lips.

Mr. Xu barks a laugh. "I like you already," he says to Xueer. “And I suppose it would do Jiaqi some good to have someone she can actually talk to if the two of you will be glued at the hip from now on.”

“Are you calling my other bodyguards _boring,_ Dad?” Jiaqi asks sarcastically.

“They could certainly lighten up a little,” Mr. Xu replies wryly. He pats Jiaqi’s knee and says, “Alright. I think that should do. Ms. Kong, it was a pleasure to meet you, but I must get back to my room now. I wouldn’t want to worry my daughter here even more than I already have, and I _do_ need to rest.”

Jiaqi helps him up from the coach and tells Xueer, “I’ll just bring Dad back to his room, then we’ll head out after.”

Xueer nods in acknowledgement to Jiaqi, and to Mr. Xu she says, “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Xu.” 

When Jiaqi and her father are out of the room and, thus, out of earshot, Mr. Yang jerks his chin at the direction Jiaqi and her father had gone and asks Xueer, “So, what do you think?”

Xueer takes a sip of her tea before she answers simply, “Shouldn’t be too difficult.” 

Mr. Yang nods, satisfied. He reaches inside his suit jacket and produces a phone from one of the pockets inside it. He slides it towards Xueer, across the coffee table. She takes it in her hand and inspects it: just a simple, cheap smartphone, definitely adequate enough for text messaging and calling but nothing more complicated or sophisticated. The kind that you could throw away after only a few uses and not regret. Perfect for a burner phone.

“You will contact me through that phone,” Mr. Yang instructs Xueer. “As we’ve previously discussed, you will also essentially be spying on Jiaqi for me, so any and all intel you gather, you must report back to me. I would prefer it if you simply texted me the updates, especially if the matter isn’t urgent anyway. On that note, I will also only call you if it’s urgent or an emergency, and vice versa.”

Xueer slips the phone into the pocket inside her own jacket suit. “And meetings?”

“I’ll text you the time and location. But, as much as possible, we will be avoiding those. We can’t risk being seen together. Jiaqi might not suspect something is going on, or suspect _me_ for that matter, but better safe than sorry.”

“I suppose you’ll only _summon_ me for a meeting if it’s absolutely urgent, correct?”

The ghost of a smile graces Mr. Yang’s lips.

“One more thing, sir.”

“Go ahead.”

“Just what _exactly_ are you planning?” Xueer asks. It’s the one thing about this that he has yet to explain to her. When they met to discuss the contract, he went into great detail about all other aspects of the plan except for the _how_ and the _when._ And there's that one glaring problem too...

Mr. Yang is magnanimous as he always is, which Xueer thinks honestly adds to his dickishness, but she’s not gonna let that get in the way of her duties. The client is always right, after all, egotistical piece of shit as they might be.

Xueer leans back against the couch. Shrugs a shoulder. “I think it’s only fair that you pay me handsomely after you’ve dropped me right in the eye of the storm, but I need to know _why_ you're paying me that much in the first place.”

That catches Mr. Yang by surprise, but he quickly masks it with his usual suave, unfazed, _dickish_ facade. His lips curl into a darkly amused smile. “To answer your question, Ms. Kong, I’ve worked tirelessly these past few months to set up everything. Like a… a _stage_ , if you would. Putting things where they need to be. _People_ where they need to be. And you, Ms. Kong, _you_ will be at the heart of this little play. However…” He picks up his cup of tea from the coffee table and brings it to his lips. “I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you for now. I can only tell you more when the time has finally come for you to fulfill your part.”

The man certainly has a flair for dramatics.

Observing the expression that has befallen Xueer’s face, Mr. Yang chuckles, “You don’t seem satisfied with that answer.”

“Well, _sir,_ ” Xueer replies, an irritated tic in her jaw, “you’re practically a brother to Mr. Xu. _Family._ So what kind of man would you be if you didn’t avenge Jiaqi’s death?”

Mr. Yang smiles in a way that isn’t smiling. “I can assure you, Ms. Kong, that you _will_ get your money after you’ve accomplished your mission.”

“Getting the money is one thing, but being _alive_ to actually enjoy it is another." Xueer crosses her arms over her chest and regards Mr. Yang with a steely gaze. He's a dangerous man, that's for sure, but she needs to remind him that he's dealing with someone just as dangerous. "I need concrete assurance—no, concrete _proof_ that you aren't going to kill me next just so you can wash the blood off your hands and keep playing the hero."

Mr. Yang says nothing at first, his face entirely impassive and unreadable, then he says, "You have my word." He's gravely serious when he says this, which somehow makes Xueer distrust him even more than when he acts pompous or patronizing.

Jiaqi enters the study and says, "Sorry I took a while. Dad had some stuff he wanted to talk about.” She looks at Mr. Yang, then at Xueer, then at Mr. Yang again. "You ready to go, Uncle?"

Mr. Yang smiles at Jiaqi, easy and breezy, like nothing happened at all. "Never been readier."

Xueer follows closely behind Jiaqi and Mr. Yang as they make their way out of the house, to the driveway where their chauffeurs will be waiting for them. The pair are discussing something in hushed voices, though Xueer does catch the mention of Jiaqi's father. It must have something to do with Mr. Xu's health, or whatever it was that Jiaqi mentioned he wanted to talk to her about earlier. She doesn't hear much else, though just from Jiaqi's body language Xueer can tell that it mustn't be very good.

As for Mr. Yang... Xueer still doesn't trust him. Never did. Never believed in honor among thieves, either. But she's here now, and she has every intention of getting her fifty million, so she'll play along with his games for now. She's at least made it clear to him that she won't take it sitting down if he _does_ try to flip this deal on her. She's dealt with other vile and nefarious people before, so she's not afraid to go head-on against _this_ particular vile and nefarious person if she has to.

Mr. Yang hugs Jiaqi goodbye and, before he leaves, cups her cheek in his hand and says, "You take care now, Kiki." 

Jiaqi, in return, pats his hand on her cheek and replies, "You too, Uncle."

Mr. Yang nods at Xueer. “Ms. Kong.”

“Sir,” Xueer nods back, civil.

Jiaqi's chauffeur drives in with the Mercedes-Benz. The backup car, a Land Rover, also bulletproof, follows behind. The car stops in front of Jiaqi and Xueer and Xueer holds the door to the backseat open for Jiaqi. She throws a glance over Jiaqi's shoulder and finds the other security personnel in the backup car eyeing her curiously.

As they drive off to Jiaqi's next appointment, Xueer dares to sneak a glance at Jiaqi from the rear-view mirror. Jiaqi seems to be lost deep in her thoughts as she stares out the window, knuckles pressed into her cheek as her arm leans against the backseat door. Just as Xueer begins to wonder what Jiaqi must be thinking about, Jiaqi's eyes suddenly snap to the rear-view mirror, where their eyes lock. In the end, it's Xueer who relents, and she tears herself free from the grip of Jiaqi's eyes.

* * *

After an entire day of going around all the Xus’ territories and quietly watching Jiaqi attend to this person’s and that person’s concerns, their final stop is Jiaqi’s apartment. The entire building is Jiaqi’s, a gift from her father, and she occupies the penthouse while the rooms in all the floors below are occupied by regular tenants. Xueer also visited the building a few times in the weeks prior to scout the perimeter. She’d never actually set foot _inside_ before today, though, because the security—basically some more of the Xus’ foot soldiers—is as tight. Just the screening process for the tenants is tedious as all hell, based on the intel Xueer requested from Mr. Yang.

High ceilings, lights so gold and so warm they could possibly rival the sun, marble everything, a chandelier. It’s pretty much everything one could expect from an upscale apartment building that is not-so-secretly owned by someone dirty rich. As such, everyone loitering around the lobby makes way for her as she walks by, parting like the Red Sea did for Moses. They stop in front of the only elevator that goes all the way up to the penthouse, and _just_ the penthouse. Xueer holds the elevator’s access card against the reader then follows inside after Jiaqi.

When they arrive at the penthouse, Xueer steps out first, and as Jiaqi steps out after her, she says, “If you wouldn’t mind holding here for a moment, please.”

“Go ahead,” Jiaqi replies. Behind her, the elevator closes with a _ding!_

Xueer begins her inspection of the penthouse, checking every room, every nook and cranny. She doubts anyone would be stupid enough to _try_ and break into _Xu Jiaqi’s_ home, but if Xueer’s going to be playing the role of her bodyguard, then she’s going to commit to it and everything that comes with it. That, of course, includes inspections like this. 

The last room she checks is Jiaqi’s room, and she’s surprised to find the door to it open. In fact, it’s the only room in the penthouse that’s been left open. Xueer still thinks it would be impossible for anyone to break into the penthouse, let alone get past the airtight security, but she’s not going to take any chances. She cautiously steps into Jiaqi’s room, her left hand on the light switch and her right hand close to the pistol holstered at her back. She flicks the switch and as the room is illuminated by bright, fluorescent lights, something leaps at Xueer from the shadows.

Xueer stumbles backwards and right into Jiaqi, who’s appeared out of nowhere. Jiaqi looks at Xueer, bewildered, then scowls at the thing before them. “Now that’s not a very polite way to greet our guest, Q-Mi!”

 _Q-Mi?_ The gears in Xueer’s brain begin to turn again and it all finally starts to make sense to her. A cat—the thing that pounced at Xueer from the shadows, like some kind of monster out of a child’s nightmare, was a _cat_. And it continues to hiss at Xueer, tiny fangs bared.

Jiaqi walks over to Q-Mi and picks the cat up. Sheepishly, she tells Xueer, “Sorry about that. I usually just leave my room open for Q-Mi while I’m away, since she likes to stay in here. I probably should have told you about it earlier.” She takes one of Q-Mi’s paws in her hand and waves it around, like a ‘ _hello_ ’, and says, “Xueer, this is Q-Mi. Q-Mi, this is Xueer, my new bodyguard, so you should be _nice_ to her. Capisce?”

Xueer’s eyes remain glued on Q-Mi. If cats could frown, then this one is definitely frowning at her. Still, the sight of the feisty little cat in Jiaqi’s arms makes her heart melt like ice cream in the sun. She bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from squealing or expressing her giddiness in any other way, shape, or form. 

Xueer rips her eyes away from Q-Mi with considerable difficulty. _Don’t get distracted by the cute cat, don’t get distracted by the cute cat…_ She clears her throat. “I’ll be on my way now.”

As Xueer turns on her heel to leave, Jiaqi says, “One more thing, Xueer.”

Xueer turns around. “Yes, Ms. Xu?”

Jiaqi looks at Xueer intently for a moment then says, "I just wanted to say sorry again for earlier. I really didn't mean to offend or insult you with what I said. It's just—I guess I was a little taken aback. Wait, no, gosh. I promise I don't mean _that_ in a bad way either. I mean it in a... positive? Not-negative—"

"No worries, Ms. Xu," Xueer says, cutting Jiaqi off as politely as she can.

Jiaqi doesn't seem to be done, though: "Gosh, sorry, I know I keep apologizing and I keep going on about this, but these things—I just feel terrible, you know? These kinds of things keep me up at night, seriously. Like— Okay, what I’m trying to say is: Xueer, I'm really, really, _really_ sorry that we got off on the wrong foot." She punctuates her apology with a pout.

Xueer hopes that whatever is going on with her face now resembles a smile close enough. "All's been forgiven already, Ms. Xu, you don’t have to worry about it anymore."

Jiaqi appears satisfied with that, but before Xueer can even turn on her heel to leave, she adds, "And, hey, just call me Jiaqi. I read your files and I know we're not that far apart in age, so you can loosen up with the formalities a bit."

Xueer blinks at Jiaqi, unsure of how to respond, then settles for: "…Yes, Ms. Xu."

The corner of Jiaqi's mouth quirks up. 

She follows Xueer back to the elevator, Q-Mi still in her arms, and waves goodbye to Xueer. She even makes Q-Mi wave goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow, Xueer."

Xueer replies, "Have a good evening, Ms. Xu," just before the elevator doors shut close.

Mr. Gao, Jiaqi’s chauffeur, drops Xueer off at her apartment before driving all the way back to the Xu estate. She profusely thanks him for it and promises she’ll handle her commute to and from work herself from here on out, to which he merely hums in response. 

Xueer's Shanghai flat is… well, it's no penthouse at one of the most expensive pieces of real estate in all of Shanghai, with a beautiful waterfront view and Shanghai skyline as far as the eye can see. 'Spartan' is already a very generous way to describe this average-sized living space she'll be calling home until she's finally fulfilled her end of the contract. That's not to say it's shabby, but Xueer's not willing to invest more into making this apartment feel like her apartment in Beijing, her _actual_ home, either. What she has here is _livable_ enough to get her by until she can go back to Beijing.

After discarding her suit jacket, holster, and radio, Xueer grabs a small bottle of melon-flavored milk from the fridge and walks over to her dining-slash-general use table. She slinks into one of the chairs and tips her head back as she chugs down the fruity milk drink. She instantly regrets it because now she’s left with nothing. She considers just walking back to the fridge to get another bottle but the sensible part of her brain reasons with her that she really shouldn’t be throwing back melon-flavored milk like there’s no tomorrow. Because there definitely _is_ a tomorrow.

Xueer looks around her flat. It’s quiet— _too_ quiet. She’s never had qualms with silence and or with being alone, and there are certainly times that she prefers to be alone, but it’s only in this apartment that she’s ever actually felt _lonely._ Shuxin and Xiaotang promised to visit her from time to time, and Xueer knows they’ll make good on that promise because they could be three continents away and they’d still find a way to get to Xueer. They _have_ , in the past. And, of course, they do talk everyday, and Shuxin and Xiaotang make it a point to flood their group chat with messages for Xueer to back-read. Still, none of that’s enough to quell the uneasiness and restlessness she feels. It’s just too quiet here, too empty. 

Just as her mind starts to wander even further and further down that rabbit hole, Xueer steers her mind to something else that she _can_ handle and make sense of. She decides to go over all the information she has on Jiaqi and her story, patched together from pieces of intel she gathered here and there. Xueer closes her eyes to block out any distractions.

Xu Jiaqi, Mr. Xu's only child and the heir to his throne… to the chagrin of many, _many_ people, including Mr. Xu's wife. Everyone within this circle, within _this_ world, knows that Jiaqi is Mr. Xu's child with another woman—one that could actually bear him a child. That was always a sore spot for Mrs. Xu, and shortly after Mr. Xu took in Jiaqi when she was fourteen, she filed for a divorce. It was a messy state of affairs, naturally. From that point onwards, Mr. Xu began preparing Jiaqi to take over the family business. 

Just like everyone else, there’s one part of that story that Xueer is most curious about: _why?_ Why did Mr. Xu suddenly decide to take in Jiaqi after years of just providing financial support to Jiaqi and her mother? Some say he took her in because she was the only viable option for an heir, while others say his guilt caught up with him. Xueer’s not sure there’s any way to verify either of those theories, or any of the other crazier stuff she’s heard, but in the end, what matters is that that decision has led to all of _this_. And now with her father incapable of running his empire himself because of his failing health, Jiaqi had no choice but to step up and take charge.

This is where Xueer fits into the story:

With Mr. Xu’s days numbered and Jiaqi nowhere near as untouchable as she might believe she is, this crisis has presented a valuable opportunity for the other Shanghai crime lords—Mr. Xu’s allies and enemies alike. An opportunity to usurp the Xus, absorb their territories, make Shanghai theirs. The first step is to get rid of Jiaqi, the person they all perceived to be the weakest link. That means that now, it’s just a matter of _who_ gets to Jiaqi first.

This job is a _hell_ of a tall order. Xueer’s primary objective is, of course, to kill Jiaqi, but the contract required other things from her too. One is to gather whatever information she could from Jiaqi and report everything to Mr. Yang, just as they talked about earlier. The other one, and arguably the second most important task, is to make sure no one else got to Jiaqi before she did. That was why Mr. Yang put her in this role, this position. She certainly had every reason to make sure Jiaqi stays alive long enough for _him_ to put his complex, complicated, confusing plan into action. She won’t be walking away with a fuckton of money if she _doesn’t_ , right?

Still... Xueer finds herself wondering if all that money really _is_ worth all this trouble. She's been in this exact scenario before, weighing all the pros and cons, the benefits and the risks. She runs through them again to help herself rationalize the choice she's made. Just like all the times before, any hesitation or doubt she feels dissipates when she remembers that, at the end of the day, no matter how questionable her means might be, everything she's doing now is to make sure her family lives comfortably and safely. Like kings and queens, even, especially when compared to the perils Xueer has to face everyday to give them that life. And maybe, just maybe, she could be with them again to walk in the sun, never having to be confined to a life in the shadows ever again.

Her heart swallows up her throat. This was supposed to make her feel better, not _worse._

Slightly irritated now, she goes through the exercise again, focusing on her breathing, every rise and fall of her chest, every breath she takes. She takes the reins and steers her thoughts back on the right path, keeping them focused on her breathing and her breathing only. For a while, it does the trick: her mind quiets down again and is, for once, truly serene. Breathe in, breathe out. So far, so good. Great, even.

Then, suddenly, an image cuts right through the peace and quiet Xueer's just beginning to grasp with her hands: Jiaqi, with Q-Mi cradled in her arms as she sends Xueer off for the evening. The moment rewinds and replays itself in her head, and Xueer finds herself fixating on Jiaqi's lips, pink like spun sugar, and the way they move when she says _I'll see you tomorrow, Xueer._ Her memory rewinds even further until Xueer is back at the study with Jiaqi, who looks upon her with a gaze so heavy and so charged, just like the air before lightning strikes. Xueer watches Jiaqi's lips move again as she speaks. Jiaqi, in her almost obscenely green shirt and blue trousers: the only splash of color and life in a room so refined and so polished it was dreary and drab.

Xueer’s stomach grumbles, startling Xueer into opening her eyes. It takes her eyes a few seconds to fully adjust to the light again, and another few seconds before she realizes just what—or _who_ —she was thinking about. With heat crawling up her neck, Xueer glares deeply at the empty milk bottle, as if it were to blame for her mess of thoughts. She sure _wishes_ she could just blame it. Wishes it could be as easy as that. As if to announce that it's about to mutiny and crawl out of her mouth, Xueer's stomach grumbles again, lower and more persistent this time, and Xueer decides that for once in her life, she's glad to be hungry. It at least saved her from sparing Jiaqi any more thought than she should have.

Xueer gets up from her seat and walks back to the kitchen, where she ransacks her fridge for stuff she can throw together and call ‘dinner’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was supposed to be longer. Like, way, way, _way_ longer—and as I continued to edit this part here, on AO3, this part got even longer too and I decided that it was best to just split the chapter into two. The perk to that is that most of what will now be Chapter 2 has been written already, so while I still have a lot of gaps to write out and fill, I won't be starting from scratch either. All in all, what I'm trying to say is that Chapter 2 shouldn't take _too_ long to roll out, unless work and other life things get in the way. But yay. You can definitely look forward to more of Jiaqi in the next chapter.
> 
> BTW, the warning for Graphic Depictions of Violence doesn't actually apply to the fic until _after_ this chapter, as you might have already inferred, but I just wanted to put that out there.
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/maximalist_ao3/) and [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/maximaIists).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiaqi hands the now discarded bathrobe over to Xueer, looks around vaguely, very obviously feigning real interest in their surroundings, and says, "Quite a view, isn't it?"
> 
> Xueer knows that Jiaqi isn't talking about the Shanghai skyline. Her shit-eating grin gives away that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["But Izzy, didn't you say this would only be _three_ chapters?!"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=08BgTHgXGU0/)

Contrary to popular belief, being the bodyguard of a criminal heiress isn't as _exciting_ or as _sexy_ as the movies make it look. Truth is, it’s pretty fucking boring. 

Ninety-five percent of the time, all Xueer does is escort Jiaqi anywhere and everywhere she goes and generally make sure nothing bad happens to Jiaqi—and, yes, Xueer _is_ aware of how comically ironic that last point is. This job, thrilling as it might sound on paper, is really just like any other job out there. It’s got routine and, like anything that’s got anything to do with routine, it’s _boring._

Since her first meeting with Jiaqi, it’s just been meetings, trips back and forth between the territories the Xus’ control, solving everyone’s problems for them or making sure no one _causes_ problems for them, and frequent lunch dates with Jiaqi’s best friends Sun Rui and Dai Meng. One of the more interesting things to happen was an impromptu meeting with the Xus’ legal team to discuss the ongoing fraud case of one of the organization’s commanders. By the end of the meeting, they agreed to finance a trip for a key prosecution witness and bribe whoever else they could possibly bribe to get the case dismissed already. Three days later, the team updated Jiaqi, saying the witness took the bribe. Hook, line, and sinker.

But those kinds of days are few and far between. While Xueer doesn’t find enjoyment in killing people for pay, _that_ at least gives her something to _do._

From a purely objective standpoint, nothing happening at all is actually a good thing. That definitely makes Xueer’s life easier. But _still._ Right now, she’s nothing more than glorified arm candy, and she’s worried that she’s going to get rusty if she doesn’t _do something._

Monotonous as the job is, though, Xueer doesn’t use that as an excuse to slack off. 

For one, Xueer’s made use of her time to further integrate herself into the organization and, more importantly, Jiaqi’s very, very, _very_ small circle. Jiaqi’s other bodyguards—the men who are _technically_ under Xueer’s command but have been around significantly longer than her—were the easiest to crack. Xueer herself isn’t particularly uncomfortable being the only woman on Jiaqi’s security detail, but from the get-go she was already acutely aware of the effect her presence had on the boys. Honestly, it’s hilarious to Xueer that these hardened, ‘badass’ men just didn’t know how to interact with or react to an actual flesh-and-blood woman… but then again, that’s just how most men are like. Either way, that at least affirmed Xueer that they would be receptive to her. So she worked to prove herself to them and slowly but surely disarmed them with her charm. Although she still holds them at an arm’s length, for the sake of professionalism and because she’s not here to make friends, she sees now that they have developed a sense of respect for her. They even jokingly—fondly—call her ‘boss’ now.

Mr. Gao was a tougher nut to crack. A man of few words, Xueer struggled to start conversations with him over, well, just about anything she could think of, just to butter him up a little. He wasn’t cold or unapproachable or anything like that. He was just… not talkative. He still picks her up at her apartment no matter how much Xueer insists she’s fine with driving herself to the estate, but Xueer just assumed that he was doing so under Jiaqi’s orders. Then one of the boys mentioned in passing that Mr. Gao was doing so of his own volition—just as Xueer was beginning to feel like she was getting nowhere with the old man, too. So she continued chatting him up, talking about anything and everything under the sun on their way to Jiaqi’s, until he finally cracked too and started telling her about his wife and kids, about how long he’s been working for the Xus’, about how he was Mr. Xu’s chauffeur first before being assigned to Jiaqi. And so on, and on, and on.

Now that Xueer’s got that part down, there’s the next agenda on her list. _The_ agenda, the most _important_ agenda, the-whole-reason-she’s-here agenda.

Xueer is greeted by complete silence when the elevator doors open. She steps out and looks around the penthouse. Jiaqi is nowhere to be seen, so Xueer assumes that she must still be getting ready. That's fine… ish. The few minutes this buys her should be sufficient time for her cotton brain to get its shit together.

Xueer walks over to the couch and flops down on it. She lets her fingers skate over the supple leather, obviously impressed by it but mostly curious about just how much the couch cost. Xueer's no expert when it comes to leather or… (very, very) rich people things, not for the most part, but this isn't exactly rocket science either. She knows that Jiaqi—or her father, anyway—must have spent good money for this and all the other high-brow, fancy schmancy furniture that decorate the penthouse.

Jiaqi is… a strange one. She’s like… there’s that song, from _The Sound of Music—_ ’Maria’ _,_ that’s the one—that vaguely reminds Xueer now of Jiaqi. How _do_ you catch a cloud and pin it down? Jiaqi’s kind of like that. Xueer just can’t ever pin her down. Can’t really, _truly_ pick her apart and make proper sense of her even when she’s about as open as any book can get. That’s really the irony of it all: Jiaqi is honest in her actions and in her words, but it’s that same honesty that makes her anything but predictable. In the weeks Xueer’s spent with Jiaqi, she still hasn’t found a crack in her armor. Their first meeting piqued Xueer’s curiosity, and all she’s wanted since is to unravel more of Jiaqi. There’s definitely _more_ beneath the surface. She can’t be as… as _simple_ as Mr. Yang makes her appear. Xueer _has_ to make sense of Jiaqi, because if she does, then maybe she can finally make sense of how Jiaqi is able to disarm and flip Xueer on her head the way she does. Maybe then she’ll finally understand how Jiaqi is able to mess with her head like this.

_"Meow."_

Xueer turns her attention to the vacant—or she _thought_ it was vacant—half of the couch and finds Q-Mi eyeballing her. 

It isn’t often that Xueer finds herself alone with Q-Mi. Since their first meeting, Q-Mi’s become less and less agitated around Xueer in the brief moments the two do happen to cross paths. That didn’t necessarily mean that Q-Mi’s _warmed up_ to her, and the cat wasn’t exactly _nice_ to her either, but that’s still a vast improvement from all the murderous intent Q-Mi directed at Xueer the first time they met. Even _with_ the murderous intent, though, Xueer still thinks the odd-eyed cat is beautiful… the kind of beautiful that you can't look away from and, honestly, never _want_ to look away from.

 _Kind of like Jiaqi,_ a small voice in the back of Xueer's mind sighs… but Xueer snuffs it out before it can say anything even more ridiculous.

Xueer leans forward, towards Q-Mi, and beckons to her. She even makes that _pspsps_ sound that's supposed to be sonic catnip. Q-Mi tilts her head, ears twitching just the slightest… but she doesn't budge. The cat only continues to gawk at her with wide and curious eyes.

Xueer is miffed. _Isn't the_ pspsps _supposed to work?_

She's just human, though, and like all other human beings, she's willing to go to terrible lows to endear herself to any cat she happens to come across, Q-Mi included. She extends her hand out further, just close enough to brush the whiskers on Q-Mi's face, and Q-Mi jumps back in surprise. So Xueer reaches out even further, her body now almost completely sprawled out on the couch. This time, Q-Mi swipes at Xueer's extended hand. Xueer retracts her hand just fast enough to avoid Q-Mi's claw of death.

In all her years in this business, no one has ever come close to snuffing out Xueer, but it seems like Q-Mi will be the one to do the honors.

"She said to be nice to me," Xueer whines at Q-Mi. She's dejected. Forlorn. _Crushed._ Being rejected by a cat even after all of your best efforts to win it over is easily one of the worst experiences anyone could have. It's unfair and just fucking ridiculous how much power cats have over humans.

"Yeah, Q-Mi, didn't I tell you to be nice to Xueer?"

It's Xueer's turn to leap back in surprise. Heat crawls up her neck all the way to the tip of her ears when she sees Jiaqi standing a few feet away, and she looks so thoroughly entertained. A humiliating realization begins to sink in for Xueer: Jiaqi saw everything. No, scratch that. Jiaqi _watched_ Xueer make a fool of herself.

Xueer stands up, head ducked as she tries to regain her composure, and weakly greets, "Good morning, Ms. Xu."

"Morning," Jiaqi greets back, a smile in her voice. As Xueer straightens her posture, she takes notice of the fact Jiaqi's only wrapped in a (very comfortable- and expensive-looking) bathrobe. As if she just read Xueer's mind, Jiaqi explains, "Sun Rui called me earlier and told me she and Dai Meng would just come over here instead, so we can take it easy until they get here. Thought I could go for a swim until then. Just tell the boys about the change of plans, yeah?"

Xueer nods.

Jiaqi takes Q-Mi in her arms and nuzzles Q-Mi, who in turn looks up at Jiaqi with a soft _mrrrp?_ Jiaqi lightly taps Q-Mi's nose with her finger, says, "Behave," and is gravely serious for all of two seconds before giggling when Q-Mi gives her the who-me kitty cat eyes. After Jiaqi released her, Q-Mi saunters past Xueer smugly, tail held up as high and proud as her chin. Xueer holds herself back from frowning; she's made plenty a fool of herself already and it's only nine in the morning. Worst of all, she can't even get herself to be mad at Q-Mi. Unfair: it's all so unfair.

After radioing the boys about the change in Jiaqi's schedule, Xueer follows Jiaqi outside to where the swimming pool is. She watches as Jiaqi dips her toes in the water. Seemingly satisfied with its temperature, she looks over her shoulder at Xueer and asks, "Have you had breakfast yet?"

Xueer shakes her head in response then, after a moment's consideration, adds, "I didn't have the time for it. But I'm fine, thank you."

"Nonsense!" Jiaqi bellows with so much force and conviction that it makes Xueer's body jerk in surprise. She turns around to face Xueer completely now and, with an easy, lopsided smile to match, half-jokes, "No bodyguard of mine is gonna run around on an empty stomach. What do you think that'll say about me?"

It's only half a joke because Xueer can see from Jiaqi's face that she's not going to take no for an answer. _I will feed you breakfast or die trying,_ is the message Xueer is getting. And Xueer knows better than to argue against it so she bows her head and replies, "Thank you, Ms. Xu."

Besides, if there's one thing Xueer will never say no to, it's food. _Free_ food, especially. Xueer hardly ever skipped breakfast, actually, and sometimes breakfast was the only motivation she had to crawl out of bed in the morning. Shuxin, knowing Xueer almost as well as she knows the back of her hand, would sometimes even wave food near Xueer's face in the morning just to get her to wake up. Xueer's no morning person, not one fucking bit, but food at least helps make things a little bit better.

So, yeah: this counts as a win in Xueer's book.

Jiaqi claps her hands in delight. "Good! Now that that's settled—"

Just when Xueer thinks the universe has finally decided to cut her some slack and that her morning of humiliation is over, Jiaqi unties the belt and when she opens the bathrobe, all of the air is punched out of Xueer's lungs. She's seeing stars from how lightheaded she's just become.

Anyone with eyes can see and will agree that Jiaqi is, objectively speaking, attractive. Like, _very_ attractive, to the point of it being ridiculous. Even Xueer acknowledges that. Back when all she had were a few pictures here and there of Jiaqi, Xueer remembers thinking that Jiaqi could easily pass off as a celebrity, with the kind of face that’d be right at home on the covers of magazines and billboards. Shuxin even seemed genuinely disappointed that they had to “kill someone so beautiful.”

None of that could have ever prepared her for the real thing, though, and the way Jiaqi looks now with her pristine white bathrobe draped around shoulders with nothing else but a simple red two-piece, a whole lot of skin, and tight, chiseled muscle under is… It's…

It's…

Xueer gulps, her mouth and her throat dry.

Jiaqi's noticed Xueer's reaction, because _of course_ she's noticed. And because she apparently enjoys messing with Xueer's head, she makes quite a show of shrugging off her bathrobe, eyes locked on Xueer the entire time. Xueer, meanwhile, can't look away; while a part of her knows that to look away is to admit defeat to Jiaqi, and she refuses to lose to anyone, the real reason she can't get herself to look away is just because… _she can't._ She just _can't._ Xueer desperately wishes she could look away, look anywhere else but at Jiaqi, but it's literally physically impossible for her to do so.

The files she'd been given on Jiaqi included a brief mention of how Jiaqi studied and trained ballet for most of her childhood and into her adolescence, even after Mr. Xu took her under his care. From what Xueer knows, Jiaqi still dances now, training for hours at a friend’s dance studio whenever her schedule permits. However small and insignificant that detail might be in the grand scheme of things, it had been of particular interest to Xueer anyway because she was once a dancer herself. Because of that, she's always had a bit of a soft (albeit bittersweet) spot for dancers. And because of _that_ , Xueer wishes she just didn't know anything at all, because all those years of experience, hard work, and discipline show on Jiaqi's body now.

Jiaqi hands the now discarded bathrobe over to Xueer, looks around vaguely, very obviously feigning real interest in their surroundings, and says, "Quite a view, isn't it?"

Xueer knows that Jiaqi isn't talking about the Shanghai skyline. Her shit-eating grin gives away that much.

Xueer still can't trust herself to speak and, frankly, she doesn't even know what to say after her brain's been thrown into some metaphorical blender. Despite that, she finds herself wondering if Jiaqi had done this all intentionally, knowing that she'd be seeing Xueer this morning. She mentally kicks herself for being even a tiny bit _thrilled_ at the thought of that.

Acting like everything that just transpired a few seconds ago never happened, Jiaqi jumps into the pool, fully submerging herself in the water for a few seconds before resurfacing with a loud splash around her. She pushes back her soaking wet hair (Xueer tries not to focus too much on the way Jiaqi’s biceps flex as she does) as she nonchalantly tells Xueer, "I sent for someone to buy food somewhere nearby. That was, like, twenty… thirty minutes ago? Should be here soon enough." Then she swims off towards the other end of the pool, not waiting for Xueer to respond.

Xueer lets out a shaky breath, her face burning so hot now that she could fry an egg on it then have it for breakfast. 

As far as mornings go, this one has been a roller coaster, and she’s _still_ got a full day ahead of her. She walks over to the poolside table, drapes Jiaqi’s robe over one of the chairs, then her knees finally give in as she slides into another vacant chair. She squeezes her eyes shut and mutters, “ _Fuck._ ” 

* * *

Xueer pats her stomach contentedly. Despite her morning starting off on a rather unfavorable note (unfavorable to _Xueer_ anyway, because Jiaqi and Q-Mi seem to be having the time of their lives), their breakfast has been nothing short of satisfying. Jiaqi was really downplaying just how expensive the food was when she said she had someone buy it ‘somewhere nearby’ because the food came from a well-known fine dining restaurant in The Bund—that’s definitely not just ‘somewhere nearby.’ Apparently, the restaurant isn’t open for business yet this time of the morning, but after Jiaqi’s courier told the manager it was _Xu Jiaqi_ who sent him there, exceptions were made. Correction: exceptions _had_ to be made.

Being so busy with her food momentarily made Xueer forget that she’s all alone with Jiaqi. Having breakfast with her, even. All of that comes back to her like a right hook to the face once the food is gone, though. 

Honestly… it’s not as bad as she thought it would be, even after Jiaqi’s little _show_ earlier. Jiaqi is gracious enough to stop teasing Xueer, but Xueer also doesn't miss the self-satisfied glint in Jiaqi's eyes when Xueer helps her put on her bathrobe, as per Jiaqi's request. That one tiny moment aside, everything has gone back to… well, 'normal' might be a bit of a stretch, but whatever this is is better than brain-frazzling torture by bright red bikini. 

She supposes that she should start getting used to being alone with Jiaqi more often like this too; Xueer _is_ , after all, Jiaqi's personal bodyguard, her shadow, her red right hand. 

And _fine:_ Jiaqi isn't terrible company.

Jiaqi refills Xueer's mug with more coffee as she says, "You know, sometimes I miss being back home because when I'm there, Mrs. Cai stuffs me with enough food to put me into a coma." When Xueer snorts an ungainly laugh at that, Jiaqi's face splits into a smile. "I'm serious! Every morning, before I'd go to school, I'd just _drown_ in food, and I had to finish everything too because Mrs. Cai would watch me like a hawk." After a moment, she says more wistfully, "When I first moved here from Taizhou, after Dad took me in, it was things like that that made me feel a little more at home. I'll always be grateful to Mrs. Cai for that." Jiaqi casts her eyes towards the pool and says nothing more.

Xueer finds Jiaqi's silence a little… unnerving. Everything she's read about Jiaqi prepared her for someone that would be the walking, talking, human equivalent of the sun. And Jiaqi _is_ like that, burning so bright and magnificent that just staring at her long enough could blind you. But there's something about that Xueer just can't put her finger on yet, and that's where this feeling is coming from. That's dangerous, or at least it's enough to make _Jiaqi_ dangerous. It's in these small moments of silence, when Jiaqi is unreadable and unpredictable, that Xueer starts to see her for the threat that she could be. Xueer begins to think that perhaps Mr. Yang has made the mistake of underestimating his niece, and that she should be careful not to do the same.

"When I first moved in here—that was just shortly after I graduated from university—I walked out here and stood over there, just by the edge," Jiaqi goes on, "and I couldn’t help but feel like I was standing on top of the world. Felt like I was in an entirely different world altogether, and it felt so surreal to just look down at everything from so high above. Everything felt so small and so insignificant. So _distant_.” Jiaqi pulls her robe tighter around her frame when a strong gust of wind blows by. After a moment, Jiaqi smiles poignantly and says, “Between you and me, Xueer, I think that standing on top of the world really isn’t what everyone makes it out to be.”

Xueer tries her best to not read too deeply into what Jiaqi said, even if she feels like her brain is going to explode from just how much _thinking_ it’s doing right now. Thankfully, she’s saved from the hellscape of her thoughts when one of Jiaqi's other bodyguards radios her and informs her that Dai Meng and Sun Rui have arrived and are on their way up to the penthouse. She passes this message on to Jiaqi, smooths out any creases on her clothes, then gathers her dishes.

"I'll meet Miss Dai Meng and Miss Sun Rui at the elevator," Xueer says to Jiaqi.

Jiaqi nods, then points to Xueer's dishes. "Just leave those at the sink.”

After doing as Jiaqi told her, Xueer stands by the elevator to greet Jiaqi's guests. She takes a moment to sift through her memory for all the information she has on the two women: Dai Meng and Sun Rui, daughters of two of Mr. Xu's most loyal commanders, and two of Jiaqi's closest friends since she moved to Shanghai to live with her father. As it is with all things that involve family and business, Dai Meng and Sun Rui are now learning the ropes and basically being to Jiaqi what their fathers are to Mr. Xu. 

They are, also, apparently deathly terrified of Xueer. 

Xueer doesn’t even know why. All she ever does during Jiaqi’s lunch dates or meetings with them is quietly guard Jiaqi from a distance, as all bodyguards are expected to do, but she’s always noticed how wary they are of her anyway. Xueer has enough self-awareness to acknowledge that she has a tendency to come off cold or even a little bitchy (“ _Plenty_ bitchy,” Xiaotang said when they discussed this topic in earnest), but she’s never seen anyone react to that the way Sun Rui and Dai Meng do.

The elevator doors part open. Dai Meng and Sun Rui freeze when they see Xueer, exchange glances, then finally step out. Xueer bows her head in greeting: "Miss Dai Meng, Miss Sun Rui—Ms. Xu is waiting for you outside."

Dai Meng and Sun Rui look at each other again before they follow Xueer to the pool.

Xueer starts, "Ms. Xu—", but she's cut off when Dai Meng _roars_ at Jiaqi, " _What the fuck?_ You didn't save any for us?!"

Startled, it takes Xueer a few seconds to realize that Dai Meng is talking about the food on the table. The food that Xueer ate earlier, just before they arrived. And now there's nothing left for Dai Meng and Sun Rui.

Jiaqi looks down into the coffee pot. "There's some coffee left."

"We can't _eat_ that," Sun Rui snorts as she flops down on one of the chairs opposite Jiaqi. Dai Meng occupies the one beside her.

"You can certainly _try,_ " Jiaqi replies sarcastically.

Sun Rui snatches a paper towel from the bundle just lying around on the table, crumples it, and tosses it at Jiaqi's face. Dai Meng chortles as Jiaqi just barely dodges the paper towel-turned-projectile. "Xu Jiaqi," Sun Rui says, heartfelt and dramatic, "you are a _fucking_ idiot."

Xueer silently observes them the entire time. She, Shuxin, and Xiaotang aren't too different from Jiaqi, Sun Rui, and Dai Meng when they're together. There's sharp, cutting banter but never without fondness and warmth. For a moment, Xueer finds herself sorely missing Shuxin and Xiaotang, then the feeling passes.

That's when she realizes Sun Rui and Dai Meng are staring at her. Long and hard, too, and curious, maybe a little expectant. While they're nowhere near as intense as Jiaqi can be, Xueer can't help but feel somewhat self-conscious under their scrutiny. Given that they're _not_ Jiaqi, though, Xueer does do a much better job of keeping a poker face on at least.

Finally, Sun Rui faces Jiaqi again then, as she leans forward and closer to her, she jabs her thumb at Xueer's direction and asks, "She's not gonna deck me in the face for calling you a fucking idiot, right?"

Just like that, Xueer's facade of stoic professionalism crumbles and she scrambles to put it back together. Her attempts to stop herself from smiling or, worse, _laughing_ are futile, and in the end she resorts to biting down painfully hard on the inside of her cheek.

"No, I don't think she will," Jiaqi says to Sun Rui, clearly very entertained. "Xueer's not like my other bodyguards, you know. She actually has a sense of humor. Even Dad thinks so."

"Besides," Dai Meng remarks, albeit cautiously, "you actually _are_ a fucking idiot anyway. That's a fact, not an opinion."

Jiaqi puffs her chest out indignantly. "If you were just going to insult me all morning long, you could have just done so over WeChat instead of setting this meeting."

Sun Rui and Dai Meng simultaneously hold their hands up in defeat. Then the three of them have a good laugh about it.

It's quite unfortunate that Xueer finds Dai Meng and Sun Rui likeable. Maybe in a different life, under drastically different circumstances, she would have been friends with them. They certainly have that kind of infectious, chaotic energy that Xueer usually finds herself drawn to, her closest friends being proof of that.

These are dangerous thoughts to have, though. Even if Dai Meng and Sun Rui are crazy likeable, sentimentality is a luxury Xueer can’t afford.

After a few minutes more of pointless chit-chat and bickering, they formally begin their meeting. Xueer excuses herself just to see how much trust Jiaqi is willing to put in her, and it turns out to be a significant amount, because she nonchalantly replies, “No, no. Stay.” Dai Meng and Sun Rui look less comfortable about it, but they don’t argue against Jiaqi’s whims. 

So Xueer listens along, paying close attention as the three women go over document after document, and all the numbers—large, _large_ numbers; large, _large_ amounts of money—make her head spin. “The devil works hard, but our accountants work harder,” Dai Meng even jokes while Jiaqi signs the papers. Business is good, that much is clear, and Xueer has to give credit where credit is due: despite the growing unrest over her father's worsening health and tensions rising between the Xus’ and the crime families they are affiliated with, Jiaqi has kept business afloat. And, more crucially, Jiaqi has maintained control.

But just how long can she hold onto that?

"How's Uncle doing, by the way?" Dai Meng asks after they've finished going over all the reports and other matters related to business. 

Xueer studies Jiaqi's reaction to the question: she catches the minute clench of Jiaqi's jaw, the sudden tension in Jiaqi's shoulders, the slight twitch of her mouth. For the most part, Jiaqi has impressive control over her emotions, careful not to let whatever is brewing under the surface show through on her face, but if you look close enough you would see how she's wound tight like a tension spring. 

Jiaqi sighs, "This again?"

Sun Rui smiles apologetically. "We're just looking out for you."

"And part of that," Dai Meng adds gently, "is opening your eyes to the reality of, well, everything."

Before Jiaqi can even rebut what her friends are saying, Xueer puts two and two together in her head already. _Ah._

"Dad will be fine," Jiaqi tells them mulishly and defensively, arms crossed over her chest now. Xueer can sense the worry and doubt are gnawing at Jiaqi's heart, even as she insists to Dai Meng and Sun Rui that her father will be fine. "He's—" Jiaqi purses her lips as she finds the right words to say. "Progress has been slow, but it's progress all the same. Just a few months more, maybe another year or two, and he'll be back on his feet. Back to work. We’ve got the best doctors money can buy, and they all say that he’ll make it as long as he just—just stays put. Rests. He’ll be back. I just need to hold out until then."

“I don’t know how to put this gently for you,” says Sun Rui, “but don’t you think there’s a possibility they’re all just saying that because they don’t wanna say anything that’ll piss you off? You’re not just _anyone_ , you know.”

“And now you’re just starting to sound ridiculous.”

Dai Meng and Sun Rui look at each other briefly then back at Jiaqi. A wrinkle forms between Jiaqi's brows. Not a single word has been uttered but the silence speaks volumes enough. Xueer is intrigued by it all.

"Of course we're hoping Uncle will recover soon," Dai Meng says, the sound of her voice a bit jarring to Xueer's ears after such loaded silence, "and we believe that he _will,_ but we have to face the facts too, Jiaqi. We've already talked about this before and we know you don't like hearing it, much less entertaining the thought of it, but given everything that's happening now and how much more responsibility you've taken on in his absence—" She pauses there, perhaps for effect, then slowly, deliberately, she gets to the heart of it all: "He's practically handed the throne over to you already, Jiaqi, and you know that."

Xueer slants a curious glance at Jiaqi, anticipating how she will react to what Dai Meng said.

There is an air of somberness around Jiaqi now, like the gravity of her situation, of her _reality,_ has finally dawned on her. Or, perhaps more accurately, it seems like Jiaqi has allowed it to, just this once, though clearly not by any choice of her own. Xueer can empathize with her to some extent; confronting the truth is hardly ever a pleasant experience, especially when the truth in question is also a matter of life or death. 

"Even if Uncle does get involved again with the business," Dai Meng says, "he'll likely take on a more hands-off role until, eventually, he just relinquishes all control to you. That was kind of always the plan anyway, and you could even say that everything happening now is just fast-tracking the process. Whichever way this goes, all roads lead to you sitting on that throne— _for good._ "

When Jiaqi doesn't speak, Dai Meng says as a closing note, "Aside from the fact that there's no way your dad would ever hand over the organization to just anyone else, there's also no one else who can keep this entire thing from falling apart the way you can." She smiles gently at Jiaqi now. "The way you're doing now."

To lighten the mood, Sun Rui lightly jokes, "Competence is both a blessing and a curse."

It does make Jiaqi laugh. For the first time since they started talking seriously, Jiaqi looks at Xueer, although it's unclear to Xueer why. The moment doesn't last very long, anyway, and she shifts her attention back to Dai Meng and Sun Rui. She takes the envelopes and folders that contain the documents from earlier and holds them against her chest as she gets up from her seat. Anticlimactically, she announces, "Meeting adjourned."

Jiaqi sees them off, with Xueer hovering quietly by her side the entire time. While they wait for the elevator, Jiaqi goes back to joking around with Dai Meng and Sun Rui, although Xueer notices even more warmth in Jiaqi's demeanor with them now. It was certainly interesting witnessing such a personal conversation, if not somewhat uncomfortable. She didn’t get to gather any intel worth reporting back to Mr. Yang, though. Everything they talked about, he must already know.

Jiaqi hugs Dai Meng and Sun Rui goodbye. Sun Rui pats Jiaqi's cheek and says, "Go fuck shit up," before she turns to Xueer and solemnly swears she didn't actually mean it when she called Jiaqi a fucking idiot, to which Jiaqi scoffs, "You most definitely meant it."

Dai Meng hooks an arm around Jiaqi's neck and pulls her in for a tight hug-slash-playful chokehold. After adequate roughhousing, she pulls back to look at Jiaqi’s face long and hard and tells her, "Fuck shit up— _safely_.”

"I've got Xueer,” Jiaqi says, “so I think I'll be fine."

"You are indeed terrifying," Dai Meng says in acknowledgement to Xueer, "and I respect that."

After Dai Meng and Sun Rui leave, Jiaqi tells Xueer, "I'll just go get changed then we can head out." When Xueer nods, Jiaqi's lips curl into a smile. "You know, this is the first time I've ever seen them actually look _legitimately_ terrified of any of my bodyguards. And we're talking about huge guys, real tough- and hard-looking guys—you’ve seen them—but Sun Rui and Dai Meng have never once found them intimidating. _You,_ though…" Jiaqi actually looks proud in a way a child might look proud of having a toy so shiny and new, complete with all the bells and whistles a child could hope for, something the other kids could only ever wish to have. "Well, you know what they say: if looks could kill…"

The corner of Xueer's mouth tugs up. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"I very much meant it as one,” Jiaqi replies with a flirtatious wink, clearly implying _something_ else, like she’s _into that_ or something. 

Xueer hates herself for blushing at the thought of that, but she _especially_ hates herself for blushing _in front of Jiaqi,_ who looks pretty damn satisfied with herself again.

At least the wait isn't as long this time. Jiaqi emerges from her room dressed up in jeans, a graphic tee, plain white sneakers, and an oversized navy blue blazer. The tips of her damp hair just barely brush her shoulder. Jiaqi could pass off as the CEO of a tech startup with how she's dressed today.

Xueer stands by while Jiaqi pours some cat food into Q-Mi's bowl, double-checks her bag to make sure everything she needs is there, and goes through all the motions before she's finally ready to leave. She goes here and there and then to another room and another, clearly lost in her thoughts. Xueer guesses that Jiaqi must still be thinking about what she, Dai Meng, and Sun Rui talked about earlier.

Xueer’s phone suddenly buzzes in her pocket. She fishes it out and, after checking to make sure Jiaqi is still lost in her own world, reads the text message Shuxin just sent her: ‘ _Got another job on the table. Quick and easy. PERFECT for you because you’re in Shanghai already (＾▽＾)’_ —Xueer smiles at the emoticon, which is _entirely_ inappropriate given the subject matter, despite herself—’ _They’re paying decent money, and I know you’re bored. Also I miss you. Sooooooo?’_

She’s about to type a reply when Jiaqi says, “Okay, I think that just about covers it,” snapping Xueer’s attention back to her. Jiaqi picks up Q-Mi from where she’s lying on the floor and gives her a quick peck on the top of her head. To Xueer, she rather darkly jokes, “Well, we better get going before my loyal subjects stage a mutiny because I made them wait too long.”

On their way out of the building and while Jiaqi is preoccupied with a call, Xueer quickly types ‘ _Busy right now. Call you later’_ as a reply to Shuxin’s message _,_ hits send, then slips her phone back into her pocket.

* * *

Jiaqi always makes it a point to have lunch and spend the afternoon with her father _at least_ once a week. It would either be on a Wednesday or a Friday, depending on the rest of her schedule. If her schedule is especially forgiving, then Jiaqi would visit him on both days.

Xueer's come to look forward to these days, largely because the estate is so heavily guarded she could afford to sit back and relax for a bit, and because Mrs. Cai would always have the kitchen staff prepare a feast for everyone during these visits. Naturally, Xueer makes the most out of the few hours they spend here, eating to her heart's content and sometimes even bringing home leftovers packed in Tupperware containers because Mrs. Cai insisted, god forbid Xueer go hungry. This part of the job, Xueer has absolutely no complaints about.

The days may bleed into each other to the point that Xueer sometimes feels she’s stuck in an endless loop of, like, _Tuesday,_ but Wednesdays and Fridays will always be clear as day to her. These days make her think that maybe Jiaqi really _is_ worth all the trouble after all, especially since she’s being fed so well. 

She's the last one standing. Or, well, eating. Shuxin used to say that she had an appetite that could rival that of a man’s, and now that remark seems to have manifested itself in a very literal way. The first time she joined the boys for lunch, they were baffled at how she could eat just as much—if not more than—they could. She thinks it’s stupid anyway to still believe women are dainty little things, especially in this day and age, but she does enjoy constantly proving her companions wrong about everything they might have thought about her.

Xueer’s still busy gobbling down what’s left of the braised pork belly when Mrs. Cai enters the kitchen. Ever a busy body, the older woman spent what was also supposed to be her lunch break attending to a variety of matters, as if she couldn’t bear to not be doing anything.

“We’ll head back out now, boss,” one of the boys informs Xueer, who can only nod in response because her mouth is still preoccupied with chewing.

The kitchen staff, meanwhile, go back to their stations and begin cleaning up, spurred into action by Mrs. Cai’s presence. Mrs. Cai briefly speaks to them to give out further instructions and when she’s done, she moves to occupy one of the now vacant seats adjacent to Xueer’s.

Out of everyone, Xueer has grown most fond of Mrs. Cai. Whenever Xueer and the boys had to wait for Jiaqi, Mrs. Cai would always have snacks and tea or coffee sent to them. Then she would often talk with Xueer, ask how she likes the job, how she’s fitting in, if she’d like some more tea or coffee.

Mrs. Cai gestures to Xueer's plate and asks, "How do you like the food?"

"I love it," Xueer replies instantly.

Mrs. Cai nods, thoroughly satisfied with Xueer’s response. Smiling warmly, she informs Xueer, “I already had the cooks set some food for you to take home. I've left it in the care of Mr. Gao."

Xueer bows her head and politely says, "Thank you, Mrs. Cai," but deep down inside she's elated as all hell. She's eating good tonight.

They have tea together after Xueer's finished her meal, and they continue on to talk more about all the mundane things under the sun. Mrs. Cai spends most of the talking about her eldest son, Xukun, and how he’s doing well for himself, and of course how she owes all of that to the financial support Mr. Xu has given them through the years. Not for the first time, she also asks Xueer if she’s seeing anyone, if there’s a boyfriend, wink wink, but Xueer gives her her usual response: “I don’t have time for that kind of stuff.” Xueer doesn’t really mind Mrs. Cai asking, though she’s starting to suspect that Mrs. Cai must have some kind of match-making agenda going on if she’s so curious about Xueer’s love life.

Xueer’s never had much luck in that arena anyway. Love, that is; relationships, all that gooey and mushy stuff. She’s had her fair share of relationships and flings in the past, and—okay, maybe she’s had more flings than proper relationships, her last very, very, very serious one being her relationship with Yuxin, but that’s besides the point. Xueer isn’t really lying when she says she doesn’t have time for that kind of stuff. In her line of work, it’s easier to get away with a quick fuck here and there than actually sustain a relationship with anyone. Unless you could stomach lying to your partner about the things you do, or unless they somehow miraculously never ask you about it. The latter never happens, obviously, and Xueer’s got enough decency left in her to find the former unacceptable. Whichever the case, Xueer’s experience has taught her that there’s no room for sappy, happy endings here.

After telling Xueer a story about a time when Jiaqi and Xukun got into trouble back in high school, Mrs. Cai asks Xueer, "How has Miss Jiaqi been, by the way?"

"She's… doing alright," Xueer answers slowly. With the exception of that morning with Dai Meng and Sun Rui, Jiaqi actually _has_ been doing pretty okay. That's the whole reason why Xueer's dealing with all this monotony, after all: nothing is really happening, and she doesn't think anything will really happen for a while either. She takes another sip of her tea and continues, "I haven't observed anything particularly concerning, anyway."

"That's good," Mrs. Cai nods, though judging from the look on her face, she's deeply concerned all the same. After a moment's consideration, she sighs. "Her father's been very worried about her. He has a lot of faith in her, don't get me wrong, and I see so much of him in her too, and then some, but…

"She's surrounded by dangerous people in a dangerous world," Mrs. Cai carries on, resting her slender and graceful hands on her lap, "so I'm sure you understand why he would worry about her. I do think it's more than just that, though, if I'm going to be completely honest. While he doesn't doubt her capabilities, I think… I think what he's most concerned about is whether or not her heart is strong enough for all of this."

Xueer finds herself thinking, _Well, I didn't think I had the heart to do the stuff I do now, but here I am anyway._ Jiaqi is good and kind and honest, but back when things were simpler and she was much younger, Xueer thought the same of herself. Good and kind and honest. Never would have had the heart or the guts to pull the trigger on someone—but here she is now, and there's no going back for her anymore. Looking at it from the perspective, Jiaqi could still prove everyone, including herself, wrong. Maybe she just hasn't encountered anyone or anything yet that could possibly push her further and further down this path of destruction and no return. Nothing that could possibly bring out everything she and everyone else never thought she had in her. All it really takes is that _push._

Or maybe everyone's right about her. Maybe Jiaqi really doesn't have it in her after all. Maybe her kindness and her honesty _will_ lead to her and the organization's demise. There's no way to really tell how things will go or if Jiaqi will be able to adapt and evolve, though of course Mr. Yang is firm in his belief that Jiaqi is not fit to rule. That's why Xueer is here now: to nip the (supposed) impending doom of the organization in the bud.

"I have confidence in Ms. Xu," Xueer eventually tells Mrs. Cai, if only to ease some of her worries away for the moment, "and I might not have been around for that long, but I've seen how determined and diligent she is in her work. The organization couldn't be in better hands."

That does seem to do the trick, because it brings a smile back on Mrs. Cai's face. Xueer feels both relieved and guilty.

After she finishes the last drops of her tea, Xueer excuses herself, saying, "I think I'll go for a walk while I wait for Ms. Xu. Thank you again, Mrs. Cai."

The estate is large enough that Xueer truly believes she could walk around for hours and not find where it ends. It really is different actually being _inside_ as opposed to just watching it from a safe, inconspicuous distance. That said, she's become increasingly more familiar with the property, having explored every nook and cranny she could possibly explore while waiting for Jiaqi—and there's still _a lot_ to be explored. She's even familiarized herself with the names and artists of the paintings she took notice of on the day of her first meeting with Jiaqi.

While there _is_ a part of her that still feels unwelcome and painfully out of place when she goes on these walks, basking in the cold and domineering glory of the Xu estate, Xueer's favorite spot in the entire estate is the sprawling garden. In a way, it reminds her of Jiaqi on the day they first met: while everything else around it is polished and aloof, the garden provides a refreshing splash of life, warmth, and color. And there's just so much _green,_ like the color of Jiaqi's shirt that day. It's really just missing baggy blue trousers now.

Xueer also appreciates how quiet it is here. It's not the eerie and lonely kind of quiet that permeates the hallways and rooms inside the mansion, but something more… comfortable and inviting. It's similar to the experience of being able to enjoy someone's company without needing to really say much or anything at all to each other. This is the kind of quiet that allows her to let go of her worries even just for a while and refocus herself.

"I've always liked it here, too."

Xueer jerks and turns. Standing before her is Mr. Yang, a maroon suit jacket draped around the strong intimidating frame of his body, his dress shirt under it crisp and sleek, and his shoes polished to an almost unnatural and surreal shine. The afternoon sunlight winks off his gold-rimmed glasses. He dresses impeccably, Xueer will give him that much, but she doesn't appreciate how he's trespassed into her sanctuary here at the estate.

He smiles at her in a way that isn't smiling. "Got a lot on your mind, Ms. Kong?"

"I didn't know you had business here today, sir," Xueer replies. She's not going to entertain his little jab at her.

"Just had something to drop off," Mr. Yang says simply. He waves his hand towards the rest of the garden. "Shall we?"

Didn't he say the two of them shouldn't be seen around each other so much, lest someone suspect they were plotting something (which, _yeah,_ they most definitely are)? Well, whatever. This _is_ the Xus' property they're on anyway, not some seedy place they've agreed to meet up at. It shouldn't appear too weird or suspicious for Xueer and Mr. Yang to acknowledge each other's existence for longer than five seconds here. Jiaqi surely wouldn't suspect anything. 

Xueer keeps a comfortable, much-needed distance from Mr. Yang as they walk together, in step. She doubts she will ever stop being wary of him. Despite that, he hasn't caused her any problems so far, and he hasn't tried to have her killed just yet (emphasis on _yet_ ), so she still has every reason to be civil with him. She reminds herself that she can worry about how she's going to deal with him _after_ she's gotten her money already.

"Jiaqi's father had this garden made in memory of his mother," Mr. Yang tells Xueer after a minute of thoughtful silence. While he is highly skilled at hiding his true emotions and thoughts behind his long-perfected facade, hints of sentiment and nostalgia seep through his voice and his words now. It's hard to tell whether this is unintentional or not, given how much _control_ Mr. Yang exerts over every facet of his life and persona.

"See, when we were boys," he continues, "she would always tell him about how she dreamed of having a garden like this. Big and grand—something she could pour all of her care and attention to after her children have outgrown her. She used to talk about wanting to live in a big house too, with more space than she'd ever know what to do with, and definitely bigger than the cramped apartment unit they lived in. Again: something big and grand and nothing like anything she or her children grew up with. But she especially talked about her… her dream garden, if you would, and of how she would picture herself spending time with her grandchildren there. Told us about all the plants, flowers, fruits, and vegetables she wanted to grow in that garden.

"She passed away before she could see him make her dream a reality," he says, softer this time, he falls silent.

This is, remarkably, the first time Xueer's seen any sincere emotion from Mr. Yang. The way he's telling her all this now, she finds it impossible to doubt any of the sadness and affection she hears in his voice now. This doesn't make her dislike him any less, but it's at least proven to her that he's still human after all: that he still has a sliver of humanity left in his scorned and bitter heart. Her discovery inevitably leads her thoughts back to Jiaqi; she'd just gotten a glimpse at the man Jiaqi grew up loving and trusting as family, after all.

"I must admit, Ms. Kong, that I've thought a lot about what you said," Mr. Yang says to Xueer, easily slipping back to his usual demeanor. He chuckles to himself. "What kind of man would I be if I didn't avenge Jiaqi's death, you said. You do have a point. Jiaqi _is_ still family to me and believe it or not, Ms. Kong, but I still do love her. I love her, and because of that, I could never do it myself, what I'm asking of you. And because of that, if something were to happen to her, if someone were to hurt her, I would be forced to take action—but you know all of this already."

Everything he says is so strange to Xueer's ears. She doesn't know how he can say he still loves Jiaqi and then insist that it would pain him to kill her himself without thinking he sounds even just a little bit crazy. She doesn't know how he can rationalize having _someone else_ kill Jiaqi as a lesser sin, a lesser evil, compared to killing her himself.

"You must understand this, Ms. Kong," Mr. Yang says now with familiar darkness in his voice. "I was here with her father from the very beginning. I built this organization up from the ground, from nothing, with him, and that means I am every bit as responsible for it as he is. I am responsible for ensuring everything we worked hard for won't fall apart"—there is a tremble in his voice now, and for a brief moment, outrage flashes over his usually composed face—"because of his misplaced faith and shortsightedness."

He takes a moment to compose himself, tamping down his anger. "As much as I might still love Jiaqi, I cannot let that get in the way of my duty to protect what I helped create. This is my legacy, too. My responsibility. This was a difficult choice to make, but I've made many other difficult choices in the past, and I will continue to make difficult choices for the sake of this organization. That is my burden to bear—a burden that Jiaqi surely cannot bear, not with a heart like hers. She's not like us. She didn't grow up like us, didn't have to fight tooth and nail to get the life she wants, the things she wants. And her father…" He frowns, then he shakes his head. "His condition has dulled his mind. You understand why I must do this, don't you, Ms. Kong?"

Xueer's voice sounds so odd to her ears when she finally speaks for the first time since Mr. Yang went on his monologue: "I'm just here to do my job, sir."

“Of course.” If Mr. Yang is irritated at Xueer’s reply, he does a splendid job at hiding it. For the most part, Xueer's just glad his tirade is done with. He must be feeling especially generous today because he says, "A storm is coming, Ms. Kong, and it will bring with it tumultuous times…" He pauses there for effect, and Xueer watches as his lips slowly curl into a dark and wolfish smile. "The likes of which the organization has not seen since the ceasefire with Ju family."

It takes a grand total of five seconds for Xueer's brain to make sense of what Mr. Yang is _really_ trying to tell her. "You're working _with_ them?"

Mr. Yang regards her silently first, then he explains, "We needed someone from the outside to execute the hit for us. Someone who had no connections at all to either families, and someone who could disappear without a trace once the deed has been done. That's why I hired _you,_ Ms. Kong."

"You're going to stage a war," Xueer mumbles, more to herself than to Mr. Yang, as if saying it out loud would make it easier to wrap her mind around it. She frowns up at Mr. Yang. "What's in it for them?"

"I made an offer to split control over Shanghai with them if they helped me deal with Jiaqi and her father." Mr. Yang smiles at the scandalized expression on Xueer's face. "It was almost too easy, really. The old man isn't as sharp as he used to be either, and years of having to carry the humiliation of essentially losing to upstarts— _nobodies_ —like ourselves has made him desperate. So when I dropped a deal like this on his lap, he practically salivated all over it."

"I don't think you're the kind of man that likes to share, if I'm being honest," Xueer remarks.

On paper, it does make enough sense. The Xus and Jus lead the two most powerful criminal organizations in Shanghai, so it would only make sense that they would rule over it together after getting rid of Jiaqi and, soon after, her father. With their combined strength and numbers, it would be enough to make the other Shanghai crime lords would certainly stop and think twice about starting shit. Neither Mr. Yang nor the Jus have total control over Shanghai, but as far as compromises go, this isn't so terrible.

Here's the thing, though: Mr. Yang is a hell of a fucking liar. And even if the Jus are wary of him and are prepared to retaliate, the Xus have grown significantly in power and strength in the years since the ceasefire and have, for all intents and purposes, effectively usurped the Jus. With someone as ruthless as Mr. Yang at the helm, crushing the Jus would be a piece of cake too.

"All's fair in war," is all Mr. Yang says in return. Only he could be this nonchalant about committing high treason. After a moment, he asks her, "Satisfied now?"

His words echo in Xueer's ears: _You don’t seem satisfied with that answer._ She purses her lips and decides that no, she isn't. Even if he did just go on a long and winding tirade about how he would never choose Jiaqi over his duties to the organization, implying that he wouldn't 'avenge' her death after all, Xueer knows better than to just blindly trust him. In fact, all of this has led her to another pressing question: "What's our— _my_ —exit plan, exactly?"

"I'm afraid we'll have to save that discussion for another time," Mr. Yang replies, then he looks toward a point behind Xueer, smiles, and waves. Xueer turns around and finds Jiaqi and Mr. Xu standing at the other end of the sprawling garden. Jiaqi locks eyes with her briefly, and Xueer manages a small smile in return.

Jiaqi and Mr. Xu meet them halfway and after a short exchange of words, they walk together to the front yard of the mansion. Xueer falls to the back, only quietly listening along to the merry laughter between Jiaqi, her father, and Mr. Yang, who effortlessly acts like he didn't just reveal to Xueer how he plans to take down these two people who will always see him as family. It's sickening and just… sad how power can corrupt people the way it corrupted Mr. Yang. Admittedly, though, the sympathy she feels is directed towards Jiaqi and her father, not towards Mr. Yang. The concept of feeling any sympathy at all for him is almost unfathomable to Xueer.

Xueer watches as they all hug each other goodbye like some happy family. Watches as Mr. Xu's nurses come running to bring him back to his room, and she bows her head in goodbye as he passes by her. Watches as Mr. Yang takes his leave too, not bothering to spare Xueer so much as a glance, and she's honestly pretty okay with that. Then, finally, it's just her and Jiaqi left.

"What did you and Uncle talk about?" Jiaqi asks, open and unsuspecting. "Seemed like a pretty serious conversation you were having."

"He was just checking in on you," Xueer lies, resisting the urge to tear her eyes away from Jiaqi's, "and just checking how I liked the job. Nothing important, really."

Jiaqi seems satisfied with that and says nothing more, and Xueer's pretty okay with that too.

* * *

These days, all Xueer ever seems to do is think. Think, and think, and think, and then think some more. In her defense, she's been given a whole lot to think about, so it's only natural that she _thinks_ about them. Not having much to do while she keeps up her bodyguard act can also be blamed for this never-ending state of thinking she's found herself in. Oh, there's also the fact that she's all alone here. She's gotten so used to seeing and being with Shuxin and Xiaotang everyday back in Beijing that being all alone like this is really starting to drive her up the fucking wall. Then there's Mr. Yang and his pretend alliance with the Ju family, of all fucking people, and—

Shit. She's at it again. She's thinking way too much about way too many things all at once again.

Xueer sips her iced tea grumpily.

She woke up earlier than usual today—and not even by choice. 'Barely four in the morning' early. It'd be a lie if she said she didn't know why, because she definitely does: her mind just won't shut the hell up. Doesn't seem to know _how_ to. She doesn't remember the exact moment she fell asleep, but she probably got so lost in the messy, messy jungle of her thoughts that her brain got tired and flipped the switch off. Who fucking knows, really. Well, anyway, that's why she got up so early today and no matter how hard she tried to go back to sleep, her thoughts started flying at the speed of light again and she just knew there was no going back anymore. Succumb to her terrible, almost self-inflicted fate, she did. She spent about an hour after that going over everything Shuxin sent her on the "quick and easy" job she'd told Xueer about. Compared to Jiaqi, this guy is, in every sense of the word, _nothing._ A nobody, even. Which meant that Xueer didn't have a whole lot of material to read or work with. Which then meant that Xueer was once again left in the company of her other, harder to deal with thoughts.

At least she's eating good food now while she waits for Jiaqi. Food: food is always a good thing. Always. The pasta she's eating is the only thing stopping her from getting any crankier than she's been all morning since waking up. She's a professional about it, of course, hiding any grouchiness or sleepiness she's feeling from Jiaqi and her colleagues, but it's also getting harder and harder to keep up the act as the day drags on.

Speaking of Jiaqi—

Jiaqi is seated at the other end of the room with a very ambitious and audacious criminal upstart keeping her company for lunch. They're still discussing business: the upstart, who looks only a few years older than Jiaqi, wants to partner with the Xus. Judging from the look on Jiaqi's face, though, he must be involved in something that she wants no part of. Drugs, maybe, because that's always tricky stuff to deal with. It could also be something far worse, but Xueer finds it hard to think of anything that could be considered _too_ terrible by literal criminals like this guy and—yes, that's right—Jiaqi. Anyway, whatever it is, it looks like it's doing more harm than good for Mr. Upstart's agenda.

Mr. Yang was supposed to join them for this meeting, but he had "a sudden change of plans" or whatever. Honestly, Xueer is glad she doesn't have to see his face today. She'd rather not see it or him ever again. She twists her fork into her pasta, gets a sizable amount of it, then ungracefully shoves a forkful into her mouth.

Jiaqi's meeting comes to an end fifteen minutes later. Xueer stands by, watching quietly as Jiaqi shakes hands with the Mr. Upstart, says one last thing to him—probably something polite, like 'It was a pleasure to meet you', or 'Good luck with the business'—then makes her way to Xueer.

"Let's get outta here," Jiaqi mumbles to Xueer, tugging her along by the sleeve of her jacket. "That guy's persistent, and not in a good way."

Flabbergasted, Xueer tosses a look over her shoulder at Mr. _Persistent_ Upstart, whose face is a cocktail of disappointment and unsettling determination. Persistent but not in a good way: makes sense now. She radios Mr. Gao and the boys as Jiaqi continues to drag her with her.

While they wait at the entrance of the restaurant, Xueer carefully asks Jiaqi, "Was he… bothering you in any way, Ms. Xu?" She's certainly been in a 'punch someone in the face' kind of mood lately, but she's not the kind of person that throws a punch at just anyone for just any reason. If this guy _was_ being a creep to Jiaqi, though, then at least that would justify her actions. All pervs deserve a good, heartfelt punch in the face.

"No, it's—he didn't do anything. Really. Don't worry," Jiaqi replies. She's quiet for a long moment, deep in thought, then she says, "You know, I've _really_ been craving bubble tea."

"Bubble tea," Xueer repeats, equal parts incredulous and amused. As Mr. Gao and the backup car arrive, she shrugs and says, "I suppose we can stop by a bubble tea shop on the way home," and she's rewarded with a big and bright smile from Jiaqi.

It turns out, though, that bubble tea won't be the last of Jiaqi's requests today. After they secured the bubble tea—Jiaqi bought one for everyone, because that's just how Jiaqi is, and Xueer's never going to complain about free food—she asked if Mr. Gao could drop her off at Huangpu Park. Maybe she's just being soft on Jiaqi today because of how Mr. Persistent Definitely-A-Creep Upstart rattled Jiaqi, but Xueer saw no reason to veto the idea. She'd be with Jiaqi anyway, so _in case_ anyone wanted to start shit, she'd be there to stop said shit from happening.

Xueer looks around at all the trees and faces they pass by as they stroll through the park, slowly chewing the tapioca pearls from her bubble tea. It's a nice change of setting. A nice change of pace. It's already doing wonders for her sour mood. The wickedly sweet bubble tea definitely helps too.

"Earlier," Jiaqi says, suddenly breaking her minutes-long silence since they arrived, "you asked if he, you know, did anything. Inappropriate, I mean." She pauses there to take a long and large sip of her bubble tea, then she confesses to Xueer, "I know I said he _didn't_ do anything, but… I might have kind of lied. See, he _did_ discuss business with me, said he'd offer us thirty percent in exchange for the protection we could provide him here in Shanghai, and for endorsing him to the heads of the other families. That's all fine and swell, though he's mixed up in things Dad _doesn't_ want us getting mixed up in, so of course I'd have to turn his offer down, but still: fine and swell. Then things just got kind of… no, _really_ weird when he started hitting on me."

Xueer almost chokes on tapioca pearls. "He _what?"_

"At first I didn't think he was," Jiaqi explains, visibly displeased, "then I slowly realized that while he was definitely serious about discussing business with me, he was onto something else too. I mean, think about it: what's the easiest way to become one of the most powerful men in Shanghai and, really, in all of China? What's the _shortcut_ to that?" Jiaqi faces Xueer completely this time and gestures to herself. "Me, Xueer. _I'm_ the shortcut."

"Shit," Xueer mumbles, wrinkling her nose as understanding forms in her mind. "So he was…"

"…probably hoping he could get in my pants so he can eventually stake claim over my father's kingdom?" Amusement flickers in Jiaqi's eyes briefly when she sees the expression on Xueer's face. She sighs in the end and says, "Yeah, I think that's what he was up to. The business proposal was the first step to his plan, which'd give him the perfect opportunity to integrate himself into our organization and get even closer to me, which is the closest he's ever gonna get to Dad. So what started off with a business proposal will, if all things go—or, I mean, _went_ —according to his plan, end with a _proposal-_ proposal." She shudders. "Told you, right? Persistent—"

"—and not in a good way," Xueer finishes for Jiaqi, sympathetic. She stays quiet for a moment, reflecting and respecting Jiaqi's own silence, but when she feels it's the right time for it, she sincerely tells Jiaqi, "I would have _gladly_ busted his face in for you, Ms. Xu."

It punches a laugh right out of Jiaqi's chest. Being able to do that makes Xueer feel good in a way that's fluffy and so fucking terrible all at once.

All their aimless walking has led them to the promenade. Jiaqi leans against the railing and Xueer follows suit. They stare out at the river together in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Xueer idly sips at what's left of her bubble tea as she goes over the events from earlier today and from the past weeks in her head, hastily skipping over to the next flashback when her brain plays out her torture by bright red bikini in slow motion for her. She mentally kicks herself when a part of her mind pulls her back to that memory and says, _A peek won't hurt, come on._ Her face heats up—Jiaqi is _right beside her,_ for fuck's sake—but she hides her face behind the curtain of her hair.

Xueer needs sleep. _Good_ sleep, mind you, because the lack of it is really fucking with her head.

"I'm sorry that I'm still going on about this," Jiaqi says, dragging all of Xueer's attention back to her, "but I just felt so—so _icky_ when I caught on to what that guy was really after. Even the way he was looking at me… Looking back on it now, even that made me feel so gross. And I just felt so—so _used,_ which… I don't know, maybe I'm overreacting, but there was just something terrible about realizing he sees me as nothing more than a pawn in this _game_ of his, and that he probably doesn't take me seriously at all."

Jiaqi reaches out and begins to twirl the tips of Xueer's hair between her fingers, then she stops to gauge Xueer's reaction to what she's doing. While Xueer feels like all of the air has been knocked out of her lungs from the sudden… _touching,_ she doesn't flinch away from Jiaqi either. Seeing that as an invitation to keep going, Jiaqi starts telling Xueer, "I used to wear my hair long before. Well, not _this_ long, and I'm impressed you can even maintain your hair at this length, but definitely much longer than my hair is now.

"I had it cut like this after Dad asked me to take charge. In the movies and on TV, I'd always see women have this kind of 'do and they always seemed so much more commanding because of it. I'm no idiot. I'm self-aware enough to know that I'm not the scariest looking person ever, and I think I'm far from commanding too, so I figured if I got myself a… a power cut, it might even make people take me more seriously. Know what I mean?

"Well, as it turns out," Jiaqi sighs, pulling her hand back to her side, "and I guess I shouldn't be surprised—a haircut isn't enough to make people stop seeing me as nothing more than daddy's little girl. Dad's men are significantly easier to deal with, but everyone else? Especially those old shitbags?"—Xueer feels a smile tugging on her lips but she catches herself just in time—"Yeah, 'difficult' doesn't even begin to cut it. Not only am I _way_ younger than all of them, but I'm also a woman. I never stood a chance."

Given the true nature of her relationship to Jiaqi, Xueer probably isn't in the position to empathize with her, but… but Xueer understands. She has no right to, but she understands Jiaqi.

See, Mr. Persistent Deserves-A-Good-Punch-In-The-Face Upstart: he struck Jiaqi where it hurts. He might not have meant to, but that doesn't matter now. He's opened that wound already, and now Jiaqi is bleeding out all of her frustrations and insecurities.

Xueer might be looking at _Jiaqi_ now, but what she really sees is herself, just much younger and angry in ways she wasn't used to because she's never really been an angry person by nature, but also still determined as all hell to prove everyone wrong.

To lighten up the mood a little, and to take her mind off the uneasiness she feels over seeing so much of her younger self in Jiaqi, Xueer says, "For what it's worth, my offer still stands." 

Jiaqi laughs, instantly catching Xueer's drift, but she shakes her head after and says, "Nah. I would never ask you to do anything like that, not even for me." She’s quiet again for a moment, then she shyly says, “Thanks for—you know. I know it’s not part of your job to be listen to my ranting and rambling, and—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Xueer says, perhaps too gently. “This isn’t a burden to me at all. And… you weren’t overreacting, and you don’t have to apologize for the way you feel, or the way he _made_ you feel. He’s a dick.”

Jiaqi smiles and agrees, “He _is_ a dick,” then she says, heartfelt, “Really, Xueer, I appreciate you—I don’t know, letting me _talk_ to you, I guess.”

The way Jiaqi is looking at her now makes Xueer’s heart twist itself into an uncomfortable knot in her chest, but she manages to reply, “That’s what I’m here for.”

They watch as a ferry cruises by, tourists crowded at the deck with their phones or cameras out to snap pictures of the admittedly very wonderful view.

“So,” Jiaqi says, cradling her cheek in her hand. “Got any plans for the weekend?”

* * *

Xueer glares down the scope of her M82, her finger curled around its trigger. She waits for the target of the evening, a businessman-slash-con artist who’d fucked over a very bad and dangerous man, to step into view through her sniper scope. She’s been positioned by the window for a good ten, fifteen minutes now, just waiting for her guy to finally step out of the restaurant where he's wine-and-dining his arm candy of the week. Xueer knows guys like him very well: after he’s gotten a few good fucks out of this girl, he’ll surely kick her to the curb and then move on to the next pretty girl he can dazzle with all the money he’s ripped off of his supposed business partners. 

_This_ is what Xueer’s got planned for the weekend.

There’s a cackle of static in Xueer’s ear, then Xiaotang’s voice cuts through it: “How’re you holding up there?” 

“My arms are burning,” Xueer grumbles. She keeps her trigger finger where it needs to be and adjusts the bud in her ear with her free hand. “How long is this guy going to take?”

“You _could_ have just brought a lighter rifle with you,” Shuxin chimes in. Xueer moves her rifle around and stops when she can see Shuxin through the scope. Being their eyes on the ground, Shuxin is seated outside a cafe across the street, leisurely sipping on her coffee-whipped cream monstrosity at a table that gives her a good view into the restaurant’s windows. “Wasn’t Keni trying to sell you another rifle too? You know, before the whole Jiaqi agenda.”

Xueer moves back to her original position and sets her sights on the restaurant entrance again. Shuxin does have a point. The M82 _is_ a pretty hefty rifle, clocking in at about thirty pounds, and it might even be a little overkill (ha) because of its designation as an anti-materiel rifle. Put simply, this gun wasn’t made for _people_ ; it’s powerful enough to pierce through military equipment, concrete walls, unarmored or lightly armored vehicles, et cetera. Now, use it against _a person_ … needless to say, they won’t stand a chance. Certain circumstances led to Xueer deciding that she needed a rifle as powerful as the M82, and as cumbersome as it might be to lug around sometimes, for the most part she’s been satisfied with its performance. Keni, Yu Yan’s girlfriend and their friendly neighborhood arms dealer, was the one who suggested and sold the rifle to Xueer. She saw the almost giddy look on Xueer’s face when she got to test fire it and instantly knew it was a match made in hell. 

“I’ll get my slice of that fifty-million first, then maybe I’ll consider buying another rifle,” Xueer replies. She’s grateful for the gust of wind that blows into the window of the room she had, for all intents and purposes, broken into. She’s got a clear shot from here, and a clear view of all the restaurants lined up along the street. That reminds her: “By the way, where’re we going for dinner?”

“You’re about to put a six-inch long bullet of mass destruction through someone’s head,” Xiaotang scoffs, “but all you care about is _dinner._ ”

Xueer begins to fire back, “I wouldn’t need to ask you guys again if you could just fucking _decide_ already—”, but Shuxin cuts in, “Target’s coming your way. I repeat, target’s coming your way.”

True enough, the target steps into her view through the scope. She takes a deep breath, a dizzying shot of adrenaline pumping and pounding through her veins, and then—

There’s a moment of deafening silence, then shrill, horrified shrieks. On the sidewalk lies the limp and lifeless body of Xueer’s target, blood pooling around his head.

Dead on impact.

* * *

“You’re not gonna eat that?” Xiaotang asks Xueer in between chews, and she doesn’t wait for Xueer to reply. Her hand shoots out, fast as lightning, and she deftly snatches the last piece of crab shell pie on Xueer’s paper plate. When Xueer flares, “I _was_ going to eat that!”, Xiaotang just shrugs and says, “Too late.”

Xueer looks down at her now empty plate then crosses her arms over her chest like a dejected child. She mumbles, “I was gonna eat that…”

“What’s with the long face, XueXue?” Shuxin sets a couple more plates and containers of food down on their table, which really isn’t big enough to hold all the food they have, then takes her place beside Xiaotang. To Xiaotang, she asks, “What did you do this time?”

“She stole my food,” Xueer tells Shuxin, jabbing a finger at Xiaotang’s direction.

Xiaotang stops half-way through shoving a rice cake into her mouth when Shuxin glares at her. Defensively, she says, “What? Xueer wasn’t going to eat it—”

“I _was!_ ” Xueer cuts in, even more livid now.

“—it would have been a waste to just leave it there.”

Shuxin shakes her head. “You should know better than to steal food from a hungry child,” she jokes, then picks up a fried pork bun with her chopsticks and holds it out in front of Xueer’s face. 

Xueer gladly takes the entire pork bun into her mouth and, still glaring at Xiaotang, chews on it as menacingly as possible. It’s only after she’s swallowed her food that Xueer realizes Shuxin just called her a hungry child. Xiaotang and Shuxin burst into laughter over whatever face Xueer is making now.

Xiaotang and Shuxin are annoying as all hell but _god_ , Xueer has missed them. Missed being with them, like this, live and in the flesh. Missed being reminded that they are, in fact, real, and not just a figment of her imagination.

Xueer was friends with Xiaotang first. She never really expected the two of them would become friends, but there were (quite literally) only a handful of women in Xueer’s batch during basic, and of that handful only a few actually stayed and stuck it out, and Xueer liked the guys about as much as she likes waking up early (which is to say: she doesn’t), so that left her with very few options for people to befriend. Honestly speaking, she doesn’t even remember _how_ or _when_ they became friends exactly, but she does know that after they started sticking together, they were hardly ever apart again. No regrets there, of course: Xiaotang is one of the most fiercely loyal people Xueer knows and, when it really comes down to it, she trusts Xiaotang with her life. If Xueer were to compare Xioatang to anything, she’d say Xiaotang is a lot like a toasted marshmallow: a little rough and gruff on the outside, with a whip-sharp tongue to boot, but deep down she’s gooey and soft.

Shuxin came into the picture much later on, and it was through a friend of a friend of Xiaotang’s that the pair became acquainted with her. Just like with Xiaotang, Xueer never expected she would become friends with Shuxin either, especially because the only reason she and Xiaotang got in touch was because they needed money, and fast. All of their qualifications and skills were worth _fuck all_ if they couldn’t even make a living off of them somehow. Enter Shuxin, whose father runs a lucrative online gambling ring. When they first met Shuxin, she was just beginning to branch out from the family business, aspiring to make a name for herself the way her father did. Xueer found that admirable, in a weird and morally questionable kind of way, but what really disarmed her were Shuxin’s ability to make just about anyone feel like they’ve known her their entire life, that rapid-fire speech of hers, and just the overwhelming amount of _everything_ that Xueer’s come to associate with Shuxin. What Xueer appreciates the most about Shuxin, though, is that while she’s shrewd when it comes to business, nothing ever felt impersonal and cold with her either, not the way everything is impersonal and cold in this line of business. A human touch, that’s what Shuxin is.

They spend the next few minutes catching up with each other—it’s mostly just Shuxin and Xiaotang filling her in on so-and-so’s love lives and other things they haven’t mentioned to her yet in their group chat—and gobbling down their food. Xueer is actually glad they decided to go for the simple, inexpensive, and greasy delights of street food tonight. And given that they’d _just_ finished executing a hit, being somewhere low-profile and where they could blend right in with the crowd is always a good thing. 

It’s hot as balls so Xueer’s working up a sweat, they’re running out of space on the rickety table for all the food Shuxin keeps bringing, and Xueer just knows the fumes from all the food being cooked around her will cling onto her clothes like some sort of savory perfume. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

“ _So,_ Xueer,” Shuxin says after Xiaotang finishes rambling about how her parents have been pestering her about how she’s not getting any younger so she should be settling down already and giving them grandkids. “Is Jiaqi pretty in person? Is she as pretty as she looks in pictures?”

Xueer rolls her eyes. “You keep asking me that. _Why_ do you keep asking me that?”

“Because you keep _not_ _answering!_ ” Shuxing retorts with a pout. “I wouldn’t have to keep asking you if you just _said_ something already. If you just gave me a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ then we wouldn’t have to keep going on and on about this.”

“Just give the woman what she wants already so she stops bugging you about it,” Xiaotang tells Xueer with a laugh. “It’s like she said: yes or no. That simple.”

“Fine,” Xueer groans. She hates to admit it, but Xiaotang does have a point. The longer she puts this off, the longer Shuxin will continue to annoy her about it, and Shuxin can be _painfully_ persistent when she wants to be. Thinking about it now, though, Xueer also wonders why she’s been avoiding it. She definitely doesn’t think the information is relevant at all to what they’re being paid to do, and she’s told Shuxin as much, _but_ … 

Her brain plays the memory of it in slow motion, and she’s got every detail of it memorized already from how she hasn’t stopped thinking about it. Jiaqi, making a proper show out of how she’s taking off her bathrobe, then all that skin— _so much_ skin, and the bright red bikini that could stop anyone on their tracks, that ‘you can look, but you can’t touch’ smirk that made Xueer weak in the knees, and—

No. _No._ No, no, no, no, _no._ Not today; not _fucking_ today, brain.

Xueer keeps her eyes downcast as she plucks another rice cake for herself. She stiffly says, “She’s alright,” then takes a bite, stuffing her mouth so she doesn’t say anything _more._ She’s also suddenly glad that her face is already flushed from how hot it is here; at least it’ll mask how that… that _thing’s_ got her skin hot and tight again. 

She looks up and finds Xiaotang regarding her intently. This goes on for a few more seconds before Xiaotang’s eyes widen and, in what looks like a moment of clarity and understanding, she gasps, “Oh my god…”

“What?” Xueer grumbles, now glaring at Xiaotang.

Shuxin looks at Xueer, then at Xiaotang, then at Xueer again, her brows knit in confusion. Then she, too, has an epiphany of sorts and splays her hand against her chest dramatically. “Oh my.”

_“What?”_

“Kong Xueer, you terrible liar, _holy shit,_ ” Xiaotang says, face splitting into a grin. “You’ve got yourself an itty-bitty crush, don’t you?”

Xueer is so startled that she drops her half-eaten rice cake to the ground. “Fuck!” she exclaims, staring down at her fallen food. She turns to glare at Xiaotang. “I dropped my fucking rice cake and _what the fuck_ are you going on about?”

“ _Xueer’s got a cruuuush,_ ” Xiaotang sing-songs as Shuxin wags a finger at Xueer’s face and says, “You naughty, naughty girl!”

Xueer’s face burns furiously. “I do _not_ think she’s hot,” she says, but she gets the words out of her mouth with some difficulty, “and I do _not_ like her in any way, shape, or form. Where the fuck did you even _get_ that idea?”

“Oh, come on,” Xiaotang replies, entirely unconvinced, “I know you, and I know what you’re like when someone’s got you all hot and bothered.” She snorts. “Jeez, has it really been that long since you last got laid?”

“Have I mentioned how _deranged_ you sound right now?” Xueer growls at her. “Because you sound _real_ fucking deranged right now. And _no_ , jackass, it has _not_ been _that_ long. What’s that even got to do with anything, anyway?”

Okay, truth is, Xueer can’t remember the last time she slept with someone. She’s curious about it now too, though, so she wracks her brains and—okay, three... three _and a half_ months ago. That was when. Now that she’s got that down, the rest of the details come back to her much easier: it was just after she’d finished a job and she still had so much adrenaline singing through her veins— _way_ too much more than she knew what to do with, and her mind was racing, and all she really needed was some form of release. Xueer doesn’t remember the girl’s name anymore, but she does remember the way she looked at her with that dark, playful glint in her eyes. How easily and eagerly she yielded to Xueer’s touch. The beautiful butterfly tattoo on her back. _She_ was beautiful too, in a conventional kind of way. Definitely not the _striking_ kind of beautiful that Jiaqi is, and—

Xueer almost swallows her own tongue. Why was she suddenly thinking of Jiaqi? _Again?_ Why was she even comparing that girl with _Jiaqi,_ of all people? Why is she making this about _Jiaqi?_

If Xueer could just spritz her brain with water to get it to stop acting up the way it’s been acting up ever since she met Jiaqi, she would. God knows she _would._

Shuxin looks absolutely delighted by it all, because of course she is. “ _Well_ , then. I suppose that does answer my question.”

“You are _both_ deranged,” Xueer hisses at Shuxin and Xiaotang. “Seriously, what is wrong with the both of you? Do you not even realize how weird all of the stuff you’re saying is?”

Shuxin shrugs, disturbingly nonchalant, and says, “I suppose it can’t be helped if she’s hot, and she _is_ hot, but as long as you don’t let that get in the way of you getting the job done then I don’t see a problem.”

Xueer blinks. “Okay, I know I’ve said it, like, a hundred times already, but Shuxin, I really am starting to think that you _are_ deranged.”

“Killing hot people does kind of really suck sometimes,” Xiaotang supplies unhelpfully, “but it’s not like there aren’t plenty of other fish in the sea. You’ll be fine.”

Unbelievable. Unfuckingbelievable. Xueer throws her hands up in defeat and says, exasperated, “You know what? I give up.”

Shuxin cocks a brow at Xueer. “So you _do_ think she’s hot?”

“What? _No!_ That’s not what I meant!” Xueer buries her face in her hands with a groan. Is the world just out to get her? Out to make an absolute fool of her? Is that it? Because Xueer’s just about had it with the constant humiliation.

Shuxin gets up from her seat, walks up behind Xueer, and wraps her arms around Xueer’s shoulders. “Aww, I was just teasing you!”

Xueer lifts her head from her hands and allows Shuxin to nuzzle her cheek. “Yeah, well you should _stop._ This job is a handful already, so the last thing I need is for you to go around making things so fucking weird for me.”

“You’re the one making it weird by actively avoiding talking about Jiaqi,” Xiaotang counters.

“That makes no sense.”

Shuxin says, “Uh, it kinda _does,_ actually,” as she gets comfortable in her own seat again. 

“What—” Xueer groans. “What is up with the both of you tonight? I haven't seen you for over a month and suddenly you’re being like this to me.”

“We ask you what she’s like, you say nothing,” Shuxin rebuts this time, “and when I ask you if she’s as hot in person as she is in the pictures we were given, you say nothing too! Can’t blame us for wondering _why_ you don’t wanna talk about her.”

“Maybe because it’s _weird_ to talk about my mark?” Xueer can’t believe she even has to _explain_ this to them. “Yeah, she’s my boss too… technically, but she’s my mark first and foremost. I don’t think you can blame me for not _gushing_ about her or whatever it is you want me to do.”

...Okay, fine. _FINE._ Maybe Xueer _does_ know why she's been avoiding talking about Jiaqi. Maybe she's known all along but she just didn't want to put a name on it, so to speak, because to name something is to give it power. It makes it tangible. Real. And maybe Xueer doesn't want to deal with that because she doesn't know _how_ to.

So, here's the truth (and god forbid Shuxin and Xiaotang ever find out):

Truth is, Xueer doesn’t know where to start with Jiaqi. Fine, maybe Shuxin and Xiaotang are sort of correct for saying she’s avoiding talking about Jiaqi, but it’s less because she _doesn’t want_ to, and more because she _doesn’t know how_ to. And because she doesn’t know how to, the best she can do is just dodge every question about Jiaqi that her best friends throw her way. 

Her sort of heart-to-heart at the park with Jiaqi has especially been messing with her head. Seeing so much of herself in Jiaqi is just so unsettling and just feels so… _wrong._ It feels _wrong_ to see Jiaqi as something more than just another person she’s being paid to kill. It feels _wrong_ to share such personal and intimate moments with Jiaqi, especially because it’s Jiaqi who initiates all of them. It feels _wrong_ accepting all of the warmth, kindness, and honesty Jiaqi’s given to her because the foundation of their relationship was built on lies upon lies upon lies. It feels _wrong_ to find comfort in finally being able to see herself in somebody else, because that somebody is Jiaqi. Everything about it just makes Xueer feel so terrible and so torn, and she doesn’t think there’s any simple way to convey any of that to Shuxin and Xiaotang.

There _is_ one other thing, too.

And, well—

Xueer would rather die than tell Shuxin and Xiaotang about that one incredibly painful morning by the pool. 

In short, Jiaqi is just… _a lot._

Shuxin sighs, seemingly giving up on _her_ Jiaqi agenda, and more seriously and sincerely says, “Well, I suppose you not complaining about her is a good thing too, in the end. You’ve already got your hands full dealing with Mr. What’s-His-Face. At least you seem to be having an easier time dealing with Jiaqi.”

 _Not really,_ Xueer almost says, but she bites her tongue.

Shuxin does have a point, though. Kinda.

Even after Mr. Yang _supposedly_ revealed his super secret plan to her, all it left her with were more questions and a whole lot more distrust than she already began with. The biggest question of all for her is: _why_ did Mr. Yang suddenly just decide to tell her about it in the first place? Didn’t he say he would only reveal the details to her when it’s time for her to fulfill her end of the contract? Clearly, that time isn’t now. The conclusion she’s come to is that he must have told her about it so she would let her guard down. Make her believe he’s not the sneaky bastard she thought he was. Really, all it’s done is the complete _opposite._

What’s especially frustrating about Mr. Yang is the fact that Xueer can’t figure him out, not entirely. She can never tell what he’s going to do next, which means she has to prepare for every possible eventuality and just hope for the best. 

The Xu family—a fucking headache, that’s what they are. On one end of the spectrum, there’s Jiaqi, who’s so disarmingly honest and… just the way she is, and on the other end, there’s Mr. Yang, who’s anything _but_ honest and just the way _he_ is. Both are unpredictable in their unique little ways, and both have taken up way too much space in her head. Stil, Xueer would pick dealing with Jiaqi and all the weird, incomprehensible things she makes Xueer think and feel over Mr. Yang’s… Mr. Yang-ness—you know, if Xueer wasn’t being paid to kill Jiaqi, anyway.

Now that Xueer’s mind has been steered towards this direction, she feels all of her dread and paranoia wash over her again. Being with her best friends even just for an evening definitely helped take her mind off of things, especially after not seeing them for weeks, but that happy little bubble has burst, leaving Xueer with nothing but the uncomfortable reality of her situation. To say the way she’s feeling now isn’t nice would be the understatement of the century.

The expression on Xiaotang’s face softens. “You know we won’t let anything happen to you,” she promises Xueer, as if she just read her best friend’s mind. 

Xueer purses her lips. Then she sighs and mumbles back, “Yeah, I know… I know, and I trust _you_ guys, you know I do. It’s _him_ that I don’t trust.” She looks around first and lowers her voice to just above a whisper as she continues, “The fact he’s apparently working with the Ju family isn’t making me feel any better either. The Xu and Ju families haven’t been at each other’s throats in _years,_ and the last war they fought against each other never would have ended if the authorities didn’t step in already. You know that; you’ve seen the intel for yourselves. So I’m not exactly excited at the prospect of being the centerpiece of this not-so-pretend war which, by the way, makes it even easier for him to get rid of me because now he’s got someone else to blame, nice and easy.”

Shuxin, who’d been awfully quiet, remorsefully says, “Well, we all know that there’s no going back now since you’ve signed the contract and we’ve sealed the deal with Mr. What’s-His-Face”—Xueer is only realizing now that maybe Shuxin is doing that intentionally, perhaps out of spite or general dislike for Mr. Yang—”so we have no choice but to see this one through and just… prepare ourselves for whatever might happen.” She reaches across the table and takes Xueer’s hand in hers. “But it’s like Xiaotang said: we won’t let anything happen to you. And if he does try anything…”

Xiaotang drags her thumb across her neck.

Xueer chuckles softly. “Missed you,” she says, all at once fond and sad. 

She wishes tonight didn’t have to end. Wishes, most of all, that Shuxin and Xiaotang didn’t have to go back. They might only be a few hours away from each other, but they also have _lives_ to live, jobs to do or, in Xueer’s case, pretend to be doing. She’s also realized that it’s better for Shuxin and Xiaotang to not be seen around her so much here in Shanghai, in case things get real fucking crazy and they’re somehow dragged into Mr. Yang’s mess. 

Shuxin says, “Aww, c’mere, you big baby,” and in a matter of seconds Xueer finds herself sandwiched in the middle of a hug. Xiaotang is actually the youngest of the three of them, but it’s Xueer who’s always been The Baby™. She’s reminded now of how much she actually does enjoy and miss _being_ that. 

They hang around for another hour and a half, eating and talking to their heart’s content. When the crowd begins to thin out, Xueer checks the time on her phone and says, “It’s getting late, so I think we should all head back already. I need to be up early tomorrow too.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Xiaotang huffs. “Can’t be late for your knight-in-shining-armor duties or whatever. Honestly, it’s hilarious how _you’re_ the one babysitting someone else when it’s usually _you_ who has to be babysitted.” 

Xueer rolls her eyes, smiling. “What time is your train back to Beijing?”

“Eight-ish,” Shuxin replies instantly, _thoughtlessly,_ then she furrows her brows. She turns to Xiaotang and asks, “It _is_ eight-ish, right?”

Xiaotang stares back at her incredulously. “You don’t know what time we’re supposed to leave?”

“Why don’t _you_ know what time we’re supposed to leave?” Shuxin fires back. “I can’t be the only one storing all that information in my brain! I’m a busy woman, and I’ve got lots of other, more _important_ things to think about!”

Xiaotang starts, “How is this not important infor—”, realizes there’s no point trying to argue with Shuxin about the matter, and just shakes her head. “You know what? We’ll figure it out when we get back to our hotel.”

“Solid plan,” Xueer remarks sarcastically.

They drop Xueer off at her apartment first before making their way back to the hotel they’re staying at. To Shuxin’s delight and Xiaotang’s dismay, Xueer gives the both of them wet goodbye kisses on the cheek.

“One more thing,” Shuxin says. She scurries back to her chair and rummages through her bag. She finds what she’s looking for, says, “Got you a lil’ something,” then hands it to Xueer.

Xueer eyes the object curiously. Gets a good feel of its weight in her hand. Finally, she unwraps Shuxin’s little gift to her: a folding knife, and a pretty big one at that. 

“Think of it as my way of saying sorry for getting your ass dragged into criminal family drama,” Shuxin tells Xueer brightly. She proceeds to explain, “It’s got a bit of a Hollywood connection to it, the guy I bought it from told me. It was Hannibal Lecter’s knife of choice. You know, _Silence of the Lambs?_ ”

Xueer’s neither seen nor heard of that movie before, but she _does_ know knives, and this one is a pretty interesting choice for an everyday carry (assuming that’s what this Hannibal character used it for). 

She flicks the knife open and studies its blade: serrated, not quite Xueer’s preference, but she does like the hawkbill shape of the blade. Then there’s the skeletonized stainless steel handle, which she finds rather unusual. As far as knives go, Xueer wouldn’t classify this one as tactical, but it definitely serves a purpose—or _purposes_ , and very specific ones at that. Based on its overall design, Xueer guesses that this is a knife made for sailors. The serration and shape of the blade would certainly make it perfect for pull-cutting rope and similar fibrous materials, and the cutout on the handle could be there to help the knife dry faster if ever it gets wet.

Xueer closes the knife then flicks it open again. Wraps her fingers tight around the handle to get a proper feel of it. Honestly speaking, isn’t the kind of knife she would pick to carry around in her pocket, what with its size and how conspicuous it is, and she would never bring this to a fight either… but she _is_ charmed by it all the same.

“You like it?” Shuxin asks. The thing about Shuxin is that she probably already knows Xueer _does_ like the knife, but she’s just one of those people that also _has_ to hear it said out loud.

Xueer closes the knife one last time, wraps the cloth around it again, and slips it into her bag, which contains the disassembled parts of her rifle. She puffs out her chest, holds her chin high, and magnanimously tells Shuxin, “Your trespasses have been forgiven.”

Xiaotang mumbles, “Hey, why don't you ever get _me_ gifts?”, but Shuxin ignores her.

“We’ll visit again soon,” Shuxin tells Xueer, “I promise! And if you need anything, we’re both just a call away. Or a WeChat message away. Or a text message. Or—whatever; you get what I mean.” She puckers her lips and blows a flying kiss Xueer’s way, and Xiaotang does the same, but far more obnoxiously.

Xueer laughs, then she returns the flying kisses back. She waves goodbye to them as they drive away, but she lingers even after they’re long gone from her view. She could have been standing there for a minute, an hour, or maybe even an eternity, but she doesn’t make her way inside the building until the security guard comes out to check on her. 

Being with Shuxin and Xiaotang again after so long makes Xueer’s already empty and warmth-less flat feel even _more_ empty and warmth-less. This might be the place she comes home to at the end of the day, and it will be that way for a while longer, but it’s never felt like _home_ to her. Home is where Shuxin and Xiaotang are… and they’re not _here,_ so Shanghai and this flat will never feel like home to Xueer.

To take her mind off of how sorely she misses her best friends already, Xueer busies herself with putting her rifle back together to store away again at the back of her closet, hidden safely enough behind her clothes. As for her knives—that is: the knives she brought with her tonight, and the knife Shuxin gave her—she keeps them in the bedside table’s drawer, where she also keeps one of her other pistols. 

When Xueer’s done stashing away everything, she sits along the edge of her bed and bends down to unlace her boots. She’s got one of her boots laced down half-way when her phone rings. 

She frowns at the called ID, surprised and confused and definitely worried now, then brings her phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Something’s happened, Xueer,” Jiaqi says on the other line. “I—I need you to come here. _Now.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes:
> 
>   1. I got the idea for Jiaqi's story on why she cut her hair from [this article](https://www.vox.com/the-goods/2019/9/4/20838798/shiv-roy-succession-hbo-hair-pants-sarah-snook-michelle-matland) about one of my favorite TV shows, _Succession_ , and the logic behind Shiv Roy's style transformation in Season 2. To quote the article on Shiv's new 'do, specifically: "Angles in general are perceived as more powerful and visually commanding than curves and waves,” says Carol Davidson, an image consultant based in New York City who watches the show. “She embodies executive presence.”"
>   2. Xueer, Shuxin, and Xiaotang have dinner at [Fangbang Lu Food Street](https://culinarybackstreets.com/cities-category/shanghai/2014/fangbang-lu-2/), which has, according to an article I read, been shut down already. Several other famed street food hubs in Shanghai [have also apparently been shut down](https://www.thatsmags.com/shanghai/post/14334/the-death-of-shanghai-street-food) as part of an overhaul of the city’s image. I tried finding more news articles about this, to not much avail. If ever you do find more articles on this topic that I might have missed, do send them my way. I'd love to read them!
>   3. The knife that Shuxin gifts to Xueer is the [Spyderco Harpy](https://www.amazon.com/Spyderco-C08S-Harpy-Lockback-Knife/dp/B000BSY9G2), which was popularized for being Hannibal Lecter’s knife of choice. [Here’s a video](https://youtu.be/xI7Rj_TKHA0) that goes a bit deeper into that, if you’re interested. Much of Xueer's own thoughts and opinions on the knife are my own thoughts and opinions on it. It's a funky little thing, definitely not _my_ first pick for an EDC (everyday carry), but it is charming nonetheless.
>   4. I mentioned an “ongoing fraud case of one of the organization’s commanders” in the chapter. The ‘commanders’ here are similar in rank and nature to the [_caporegime_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caporegime)—or, simply, _capo_ —of the American-Italian and Sicilian mafias.
>   5. Don't think I mentioned this in the previous chapter, but 'Kiki', in this fic/AU, is a childhood nickname of Jiaqi's.
>   6. I haven't touched on this yet, but for this AU, Xueer and Jiaqi are older than they are now—that is: 24 and 25, respectively. So Jiaqi's fresh into turning 30 (cue dramatic crisis about getting older), and Xueer is 29.
>   7. As I mentioned in my other fic [_Catch Me If You Can_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18826912/chapters/44675425/), I'm a watch enthusiast so I tend to assign watches to the characters/people in my stories. For this fic, in particular, I imagine Jiaqi would wear a [Rolex Datejust](https://www.rolex.com/watches/datejust.html?ef_id=CjwKCAjwmMX4BRAAEiwA-zM4Jtxz3g14a_yfOkb-D0a5-yV3Ib0F4fpKB20jGPeThcbWFHO9FYeMexoCWfEQAvD_BwE:G:s&s_kwcid=AL!141!3!407372495188!e!!g!!rolex%20datejust/): a timeless classic, a perfectly adequate choice for a first luxury watch for many watch enthusiasts/collectors, though not my personal fave from Rolex (that would be the [Explorer](https://www.rolex.com/watches/explorer.html?ef_id=CjwKCAjwmMX4BRAAEiwA-zM4JlBAXf4W3ofAGPJz8gp1NHEv-_b8p1fxoVv-8SrKq3OT0yj3E0LbmhoCLnoQAvD_BwE:G:s&s_kwcid=AL!141!3!407372495461!e!!g!!rolex%20explorer/)). As for Xueer, I haven't quite decided yet. An Omega, maybe?
> 

> 
> I'm currently experience problems again with my laptop, the same problems as before in fact, so the worst case scenario is that I'll have to leave my laptop to be fixed again. While I do have a tablet which I use almost exclusively for writing, not having my laptop (if it gets to that, anyway) _will_ slow my progress down significantly since I prefer to do my editing, compiling, and researching on my laptop. Even if that does happen, though, rest assured I'll still be getting some writing done.
> 
> Finally, I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/maximalist_ao3/) and [CuriousCat](https://youtu.be/O7gRpIKfSCM).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xueer feels it before she sees it. Just as she’s wrapped her fingers around the grip of the pistol, something just— The only way she can describe it is that it felt like something just slammed into her chest, and she just barely stops herself from being knocked backward by the sheer force of it. All of the air has been knocked out of her lungs. Then everything begins to move in slow motion for her.
> 
> She doesn’t feel any pain at first, just this strange buzzing feeling that lasts for a few seconds, then finally, it begins to set in. She wasn’t hit square in the chest but a few inches off from her armpit, and she begins to feel a burning sensation there that intensifies with every millisecond that passes. It gets to the point where the burning becomes unbearable, almost like her skin or her body had just been set on fire, and that’s when it finally sinks in.
> 
> She’d just been shot. Not just shot at, but shot. The bullet actually pierced through the body armor she’s wearing. It pierced right through the body armor, then through her flesh and muscle, and now there’s hot blood spilling out of the wound the bullet left in its wake, staining her crisp white button-down a deep, dark red. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m pretty excited to post this chapter because this is the first chapter I’ve written and, now, published on my new laptop. I mentioned in the previous chapter’s end notes that I was experiencing some problems with my previous laptop. The same problems, actually, that left me laptop-less for about two months, during which I had to find ways to write my thesis and meet the deadlines of my other classes. Not very fun. I didn’t expect we’d be able to replace my laptop so soon, but we did, and I’m really happy about it and of course super grateful. It’s my dream laptop too, which I always thought I’d have to wait years to finally get, so I’m just really over the moon about it (which is probably obvious from how I’ve been going on and on about it here).
> 
> Anyhow: **Warning for depictions of violence in this chapter.** Yup, this is it. Finally, the stuff I’ve been dying to write.
> 
> Well, let’s get onto it.

“Coffee?”

Xueer takes the mug being offered to her and says to the man, a member of Mr. Yang’s security detail, “Thanks.” 

Xueer’s never really been much of a coffee person, but tonight she gladly accepts it. It’s still piping hot, and while Xueer normally prefers her coffee (much, much) sweeter and creamier, tonight she’s grateful for how strong and bitter it is. It does the trick, kicking her senses back into full alertness, making her lead-heavy head feel lighter, and clearing the fog in her brain. 

Xueer brings the mug back up to her lips for another much needed sip. Over the rim of the mug, she peers into the dining room, where Jiaqi and Mr. Yang have been attempting to talk to and console a shell-shocked woman for over an hour now. The woman’s face is the palest white there is, and her body shakes and trembles uncontrollably, violently. It’s a miracle she hasn’t fallen apart completely yet.

This is why they’re here tonight: upstairs in the master bedroom, that woman’s husband lies cold and lifeless in their bed.

According to Mr. Yang’s men, the woman found her husband, one of the Xus’ personal enforcers, that way. It wasn’t a quick and easy death, if the trail of blood that runs down the length of the hallways all the way up the stairs is any indication. There’s even a bloody handprint on the wall, which Xueer guesses must have gotten there when the man grabbed onto the wall to keep himself steady on his feet, his hand bloodied from where he might have been clutching at a wound. He surely must have put up a fight, even if he was severely out-numbered and out-armed. Then, when he had no more fight left in him, the ones responsible for all of this finished him off and dragged his body all the way up to the master bedroom and left it there for his wife to come home to. 

Xueer hasn’t seen the body yet so she can’t assess the true extent of the carnage just yet either, but the people who did this make her look like a _saint._

Life is fucked up like that, isn’t it? A few hours ago, Xueer put a bullet through one man’s head, and now she’s witnessing the aftermath of the cold and violent murder of another. 

Xueer supposes she brought this upon herself… somehow. She _was_ the one who wanted something to happen already, what with her brain starting to go numb from the astounding amount of _nothing_ happening. Be careful what you wish for, so the saying goes. She wanted a storm, and it seems like Mr. Yang has just handed her one on a silver platter. 

She didn’t think it would happen _this_ soon, though. 

After another thirty minutes, Jiaqi and Mr. Yang emerge from the kitchen, their faces crumpled into similar troubled expressions. While Xueer can’t verify the authenticity of Mr. Yang’s “concern” because he is, after all, a lying scumbag (and admittedly a very talented one at that), Jiaqi is at least relatively easier to read. For the most part, what you see with Jiaqi is what you get, so Xueer doesn’t have to second-guess herself around Jiaqi. That doesn’t necessarily make her more predictable than Mr. Yang, and she’s made it clear that she enjoys messing with Xueer’s head in ways Xueer didn’t even think were possible, but in the end, that’s still significantly better than all the bullshit Mr. Yang pulls. Sure, Jiaqi’s cheeky and flirtatious mind games _pain_ Xueer, but she at least knows for sure that Jiaqi is neither malicious nor cruel. And at least Xueer knows that Jiaqi isn’t trying to kill her right back, and probably never will try to kill her right back.

Xueer moves to set her half-empty mug of coffee down on the table by the stairway, but Jiaqi’s hand shoots out and snatches it from Xueer’s hand, lightning fast. Xueer blinks in surprise and says, “We can just ask them to get you a fresh cup.“

Jiaqi clearly did not (or has _chosen_ not to) hear a word Xueer just said because she takes a swig of the now lukewarm and unappetizing coffee anyway, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand after, then says, “Okay. I think I’m good to go.” She hands the mug back to Xueer and adds, “Thanks, by the way.”

Mr. Yang starts, “You don’t have to if—”, but Jiaqi cuts in too sharply, “No. It’s fine. I’m—I’m good.” Then, after a moment’s consideration, she tells Xueer, “Come with us upstairs.”

“Yes, Ms. Xu,” Xueer replies, then she and Mr. Yang briefly exchange glances before he leads the way upstairs to the master bedroom.

Jiaqi has been… tense. Like, _really_ tense. It was the first thing Xueer noticed when she arrived at Jiaqi’s apartment just a few minutes shy of midnight, followed only by the surprise on Jiaqi’s face when she saw Xueer. 

Here’s the thing:

Tonight marks the first time Jiaqi’s ever actually called for Xueer during the weekend. While Xueer _is_ contractually obligated to be at Jiaqi’s beck and call every second everyday, even on weekends, Jiaqi never bothered her during her days off anyway out of respect for the fact that Xueer has a life outside of work. That, and there never seemed to be any reason for her to _need_ Xueer. Until tonight, anyway. Jiaqi didn’t explain anything at all after asking Xueer to meet her at her apartment, but the tone of her voice and the mere fact she _actually called_ were enough for Xueer to figure out that whatever happened must be really, really, _really_ bad.

Given the emergency, Xueer had no time to change into a new set of clothes. She went straight to Jiaqi’s wearing the same clothes she’s had on her back since the start of the evening. The most she could do was just brush her teeth, spray some perfume on, and fix her hair into a neat ponytail. When she emerged from Jiaqi’s private elevator, there was a long moment when Jiaqi looked like she genuinely couldn’t recognize Xueer. From Xueer’s leather motorcycle jacket, to her combat pants, and all the way down to her combat boots—all black, naturally: Jiaqi’s eyes lingered on each piece of clothing long enough to make Xueer want to squirm under her fascinated gaze. That was when Xueer realized that that was the first time Jiaqi’s ever seen her _not_ wearing a suit too. Sure, her attire tonight is still _a hell_ of a far cry from how Xueer _actually_ dresses up on a totally normal and mundane day—she wonders how Jiaqi would react to _that_ —but it’s also not the usual suit and tie get-up Jiaqi’s gotten used to. 

Xueer knew something was really wrong when Jiaqi didn’t make a playful or flirtatious remark about how Xueer looks. No, that’s not just Xueer being conceited (…though there’s also some— _some_ —merit to that). Despite Jiaqi’s deeply troubled state, Xueer could still tell that Jiaqi seemed to like what she was seeing, and she’s definitely spent enough time with Jiaqi to know that on any other day and under entirely different circumstances, Jiaqi wouldn’t hesitate to jump on the opportunity to tease her. And even if Xueer happens to be wrong about all of that, it was odd enough in and of itself how Jiaqi didn’t try to crack a joke to lighten the mood a little or to calm her own nerves. She didn’t even apologize to Xueer for suddenly calling on her at this time of the night. Not that Xueer wants or needs an apology from Jiaqi. Point here is: Jiaqi really isn’t herself tonight… though now that Xueer knows _why,_ she can hardly blame her.

Following behind her, Xueer can see that Jiaqi’s entire body is wound even tighter than it was that morning with Dai Meng and Sun Rui. Even her hands are tightly balled into fists at her side, her knuckles turning white from all the strain. If tension were a living, breathing, flesh and blood human person, it would be Jiaqi right now.

This is the first time Xueer’s ever seen Jiaqi like this, and something tells Xueer this _won’t_ be the last time either.

Apart from the two men posted by the door of the master bedroom, the entire second floor is empty. The men bow in greeting, then one of them pushes the door open, stepping aside to make way for Xueer, Jiaqi, and Mr. Yang. Mr. Yang walks right in with the collected demeanor of someone who’s had years of experience dealing with these kinds of situations, but Jiaqi freezes on the spot, either unable or unwilling to move. 

…Xueer understands. With shocking, terrifying clarity, she understands.

The first time she ever assassinated anyone… If she closes her eyes, she can still remember everything in vivid, stomach-churning detail: the exact moment the bullet made contact with the man’s skull, the violent gush of red out of the other side of his head, the jerk and snap of his neck, his lifeless body crumpled on the floor. She still remembers all of it, of course she does. How could she ever simply just _forget?_

The things Xueer does, she does just because she _has_ to, not necessarily because she _wants_ to. And even when there were times she _did_ believe her marks deserved it, Xueer never found joy, pleasure, or a sense of fulfillment in killing them. Never saw herself as some sort of vigilante figure that was doing good for the world by ridding it of all these criminals. She knows there’s no silver lining to be found, and she definitely knows better than to trick herself into thinking there is. She knows that she’s far better off accepting the harsh, unbearable truths of her life. That’s why she can never simply forget: no one else is going to bear the weight of her sins for her. No one else _should._ Xueer remembers every single one of the people she’s killed—all their names, their faces, the exact moment the light went out in their eyes—because that is _her_ cross to bear, and hers alone.

But…

It’s different. _Jiaqi’s_ different. She’s _not_ like Xueer or Mr. Yang, whose hands have been permanently stained blood-red. She’s spotless. Clean. 

Jiaqi’s not the one who ended this man’s life… but she’ll blame herself for it anyway. She _has_ to. It’s just like Dai Meng said: Mr. Xu has practically handed his throne over to Jiaqi already, which means that she is responsible for _everything_ now. She’ll be held accountable for every bit of fortune or misfortune that the organization and its members experience— _especially_ the misfortunes such as the one tonight.

It might not be fair, but Jiaqi has no choice but to play the hand that she’s been dealt. _This_ is her cross to bear, and hers alone. 

Xueer’s mind drifts back to her conversation with Mr. Yang in the garden. Killing Jiaqi would be his burden to bear, he said, his cross to bear, and it was clear from the beginning that he had the heart to carry the weight of his treachery, his sins. Xueer can’t say for sure that he’ll actually feel any remorse over killing the daughter of the man he’s treated and loved as a brother for as long as he can remember, but she supposes that doesn’t really matter so much anymore in the grand scheme of things. Mr. Yang is prepared to live with the consequences of his action.

Xueer and Mr. Yang are similar in that sense (even if Xueer would prefer not to admit to any similarities between them). Just like him, Xueer’s long conditioned herself to deal with and carry the weight of the consequences of her actions. That said, it’s still entirely possible for Jiaqi to do the same with herself, but Xueer and Mr. Yang have had _years_ to do all that, and it seems like Jiaqi’s only just started. 

Xueer couldn’t sleep for days after her first kill. Jiaqi _should be_ guiltless and blameless, but this man’s blood is on her hands anyway, and now she has to see for herself the consequences of her supposed inadequacies— _weaknesses_ —as a leader. Xueer’s certain that sleep won’t come easily to Jiaqi for a while too.

She feels something like… like tenderness, or sentiment—she feels it swell in her chest and roar in her ears. It drowns out everything else until it’s the only thing that’s left. Nothing else exists to her anymore but that feeling. It’s overwhelming, all-consuming, and it makes her reach out to Jiaqi. She places her hand on the small of Jiaqi’s back: gentle and careful, and like Jiaqi would splinter beneath her fingertips if she applied any more pressure to her touch. There’s a moment when her sensibility comes back screaming at her and reminds her that she shouldn’t be like this with Jiaqi. That she shouldn’t be thinking these things about Jiaqi, and that she certainly shouldn’t be touching Jiaqi like this. Before Xueer can begin to second-guess herself, however, that overwhelming feeling that led her to this point in the first place fights back and drowns out that other voice in her head. In the end, she doesn’t pull her hand away. She keeps her hand on the small of Jiaqi’s back, careful but still firm enough to be reassuring. Softly, she promises, “It’s okay, Jiaqi. I’m here.”

Jiaqi turns to face Xueer, eyes wide with surprise over Xueer’s gentle and maybe even somewhat affectionate gesture, but Xueer also feels Jiaqi’s body beginning to relax under her touch. Though Jiaqi doesn’t say anything, the way she’s looking at Xueer now is enough to convey all of her appreciation and, most importantly, all of her trust. With a small nod at Xueer, Jiaqi finally digs out her courage from somewhere deep inside her and steps into the room.

Mr. Yang quietly observes Jiaqi as she sidles up to his side by the foot of the bed. Xueer, meanwhile, observes Mr. Yang from the other corner of the room. She sees the faintest hints of dark, dark curiosity in his eyes. He’s testing Jiaqi. He wants to see how she’ll react to the corpse of a man who was loyal to her father and to the organization for years—a man who, in the end and despite whatever anyone else might say, died because of the organization. Because of _her._ He wants to see if this will be enough to shake her down to the core of her very being. 

And maybe, just _maybe,_ deep down there’s a part of him that wants to see if she’s learned anything at all from him in the time he’s provided her guidance and counsel in her father’s absence. Maybe he wants her to give him something to be proud of, one last thing from her that he can look back on fondly... and then take all the credit for. 

Or maybe he’ll say he tried his best to mold her into the leader this organization needed, but his efforts were all for naught because this is just how Jiaqi is, and there’s just no changing her. Maybe he just wants to prove that he was right in the end: that all of this will eventually tear Jiaqi apart and then _everything_ will fall apart because of it. Because of _her._ Because of her father’s lack of foresight, as Mr. Yang himself put it, and because he was getting soft. Then could go on about how _he’s_ the only person suitable for and capable of taking over the organization. After all, he was there from the beginning, and he knows the organization deeply and intimately. Of course, everyone knows him too, and most of all, they _trust_ him. They know he’s a capable leader. They know that his fangs are as sharp as his mind, and that he’s got a heart and nerves of steel. He’s everything Jiaqi’s father used to be at the peak of his power and youth—at least, that’s what Xueer _thinks_ he’ll say, anyway. 

Xueer’s got a whole lot of maybe’s floating around in her head tonight, but _maybe_ it’s just her contempt for Mr. Yang that’s making her feel this way… but there’s a part of Xueer that wants Jiaqi to prove him wrong. There’s a part of her that wants Jiaqi to _win._ Xueer knows she shouldn’t be thinking or feeling this way, and she knows she shouldn’t be making this so personal, but she can’t help herself. It’s unfair. It’s all so unfair and goddammit, she just wants Jiaqi to prove him wrong, even just this once. 

Another minute passes at a glacial pace, then Jiaqi finally says, “The Commissioner… He still owes us for that time we helped him take down the drug kingpin that was causing problems for him. This would be the perfect opportunity for him to repay the favor.” Her voice is impressively even and controlled, and she keeps her eyes zeroes on the mutilated body on the bed. Xueer can tell that Jiaqi is doing everything in her power to restrain herself from looking away. “We need to make sure the police don’t get involved in this… at least, not in ways _we_ don’t want them to get involved. If what I think is going on is _exactly_ what’s going on, this won’t be the last time we’ll have to deal with a situation like this, not for a long time. As long as we’re able to stop this from escalating to something far bigger and far worse, I think the Commissioner won’t mind so much.”

Mr. Yang says nothing at first, perhaps taken aback, then he nods dutifully and replies, “I’ll set a meeting with him.” 

“As for his wife…” Jiaqi hums to herself. “Let’s arrange for her to stay somewhere—one of the buildings we own should do—until this blows over. Then let’s assign a group of our men to guard her round the clock, just in case the people responsible for all of this decide to go after her too. I doubt they will, frankly, but better safe than sorry.”

“Of course.”

“What about their kids? They have kids, don’t they?”

“A son and a daughter, both of whom are currently studying abroad. The eldest, the boy, is set to graduate next year.”

“Let’s have him work for us after he’s graduated,” Jiaqi decides. Then she frowns. “Maybe not within the organization itself, because I don’t think the mom will be ecstatic to see her eldest child following his father’s footsteps. No… no, that won’t do.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Mr. Yang reassures Jiaqi. “He can work for one of our legitimate businesses. We can even have Xukun take the boy under his wing. Show him the ropes.”

Jiaqi nods, satisfied. “Now,” she says, then she pauses to take in a deep breath. She slowly exhales through her nose. She gestures to the body on the bed. “Now we need to get rid of _this._ ”

Xueer lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she’d been holding.

She’s… relieved. Jesus, she’s _relieved,_ and there’s a part of her that’s even a little proud. Jiaqi did well. Didn’t keel over or crumble like Mr. Yang was probably hoping. Didn’t let her guilt or fear paralyze her. Didn’t look away.

Jiaqi and Xueer stay with the man’s wife until another group of their men arrive to escort her to her temporary hideout. Mr. Yang, meanwhile, makes arrangements with the Commissioner over the phone, just as he promised Jiaqi he would.

“The Commissioner has agreed to meet with us later,” Mr. Yang informs Jiaqi. The smell of cigarettes cling onto his clothes. He must have taken a much needed cigarette break while he was at it. “Not at his office, obviously, but he said he’ll tell me when he’s decided on where he wants to hold the meeting.”

Jiaqi nods.

Xueer watches as Mr. Yang strides towards Jiaqi, occupying the chair opposite hers. He’s about to say something but he catches himself, stopping to look over to where Xueer is standing. It seems like he wants her to leave, or he’s trying to make it look that way. Like she’s intruding on some deeply personal moment. She holds his gaze stubbornly in return. 

“It’s okay, Uncle,” Jiaqi finally says. “I trust Xueer.”

Mr. Yang raises a brow, as if to say, _Is that so?_ “I just wanted to check on you,” he says to Jiaqi in the end. He reaches out and squeezes Jiaqi’s shoulder. “How’re you holding up?”

“I’ve been better,” Jiaqi replies honestly and glumly. She looks tired now. All the tension’s been released from her body, but in its place now is exhaustion, and a whole lot of it. She purses her lips. She starts, “That was…”, but her voice tapers off.

“I know,” Mr. Yang sighs sympathetically. Xueer expected him to launch into a short lecture about how things don’t get any easier from here, and that she should be prepared to deal with more situations like this, be prepared to _see_ more atrocities like this, but he surprisingly just leaves it at that. Xueer supposes there’s no use in telling Jiaqi what she already knows. They sit together in heavy, thoughtful silence for a minute, then he finally says, “You’ve had a long night, Kiki. Go get some sleep. Leave the rest to me.”

Jiaqi only absently nods in response.

It’s almost two in the morning by the time they arrive back at Jiaqi’s. Everyone is exhausted, but everyone does their best to be good sports about it for Jiaqi’s sake. Xueer knows Jiaqi is upset. They _all_ know Jiaqi is upset. She must be exhausted too from having to put on as brave a face as she can put on for everyone’s sake and because that’s what’s expected of her. 

The only time Xueer sees the flash of a smile on Jiaqi’s face is when Q-Mi comes bolting towards her as soon as the elevator doors open. She takes Q-Mi into her arms and holds her tight for a few good seconds, her face buried in Q-Mi’s pristine white fur, then she sets the cat back down on the floor. 

Xueer is taken aback when Q-Mi suddenly walks towards her and curls herself around Xueer’s leg, brushing her nose and her face against the fabric of Xueer’s pants. Then Q-Mi walks off like nothing happened. Xueer’s face breaks into a triumphant smile. 

“See?” Jiaqi says to Xueer. “She doesn’t hate you. She just… has her moments.”

With her head still in cloud nine, it takes Xueer another moment to remember that, right, Jiaqi is here with her and they just had a hell of a morbid evening. She probably shouldn’t be feeling giddy like a child over a cat finally giving her attention and affection. She clears her throat and sheepishly mumbles, “I never said she does.”

Jiaqi cracks a smile. “Yeah, I know, but I could tell you were thinking it this entire time.”

“That obvious, huh?”

Jiaqi chuckles, “Yeah, kinda,” then her smile drops away. “I’m sorry about tonight, Xueer. I really didn’t want to bother you on your day off, but…”

“It’s okay, Ms. Xu,” Xueer replies gently, “There’s nothing to apologize for.” They stand together in silence for a long moment, then Xueer awkwardly clears her throat. “I hope you don’t mind if I—“

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Go ahead,” Jiaqi says, stepping aside. 

This is… fine. Xueer doubts she and Jiaqi are fit to talk about all of _that_ right now anyway.

Xueer goes about her inspection of the penthouse. Yes, this is all really just for formality’s sake, but given everything they just saw tonight, now’s not the best time to be complacent. When she’s done, she tells Jiaqi, “I’ll be heading out now, Ms. Xu.” 

Despite saying that, though, Xueer doesn’t actually turn to leave just yet. Her feet stay firmly planted on the spot where she’s standing because Jiaqi’s staring at her long and hard and in that way of hers that makes Xueer second-guess herself. She asks, “Is something the matter?”

Jiaqi shakes her head and says, “No, no, it’s just—earlier… you actually called me by my name.”

Xueer blinks. 

So much has happened tonight that she honestly can’t even remember whether or not she actually did what Jiaqi’s saying she did. Almost every second she’s spent with Jiaqi tonight has been so nauseatingly charged that all her mind and her body can remember are the things and ways she _felt,_ not so much the things she _did._ Surely if she called Jiaqi by her name and not just by ‘Ms. Xu’, as she always does, she would remember, right?

…Right?

_Right._

She _did_ call Jiaqi by her name earlier, in that moment of stupid vulnerability. A slip of the tongue, that’s all it was, but she let herself slip all the same. It’s not that she particularly cares for formalities or anything, but she never addressed Jiaqi as _just_ ‘Jiaqi’ for a reason. Addressing her by _just_ ‘Jiaqi’ feels… it just feels too personal. Too warm and too familiar for Xueer’s comfort. This was her way of putting even more distance between them, even if Jiaqi constantly tries to close that gap. Xueer was doing so well at it too, and then she just—she just _slipped._

“Hey, it’s fine,” Jiaqi tells Xueer when she sees the troubled expression on her face. “No need for formalities with me, remember? I actually _prefer_ things that way.”

Well, there’s not much Xueer can do about that now. Jiaqi caught her slipping, after all, and what’s done is done. In the end, she says, “It might take some getting used to, but if that’s what you want, and if it’ll make you happy… then who am I to say no, right?”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special,” Jiaqi says, teasing Xueer just a little bit. “And, uh… I know I’ve held you up long enough, but I just wanna say thank you. For earlier.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Xueer says. She tries to make it sound light and nonchalant, like a joke even, calling back to the first time she said it when they were together at the park. Try as she might, though, her voice comes out small and stilted. Now seems like the best time for a change of topic. “What time should we pick you up later?”

“Hm… ten, maybe?” Jiaqi answers. She checks her watch for the time. “Yeah, that should be fine. I think we could all do with some sleep anyway.”

 _Well, amen to that._ “I’ll inform Mr. Gao and the boys.”

Just before Xueer steps into the elevator, Jiaqi says, “Good night, Xueer,” and she smiles at Xueer like she’s just given her the world. 

It seems like tonight really is a night of firsts, because tonight Xueer learns what it’s like to have something make her feel so happy yet so miserable at the same time.

Weakly, Xueer replies, “Good night, Jiaqi,” and she slumps against the wall after the elevator doors close. 

Xueer stares up at the ceiling and hopes it holds the answer to the question she’s been asking herself since this started: Just what the hell has she gotten herself into?

* * *

Xueer stares down the scope of her rifle and adjusts her aim until she’s perfectly locked onto her target. He’s got his back turned to her but there’s something… there’s something really familiar about him. The slope of his shoulders, the way he waves his hands around as he talks. She’s pretty sure she’s seen this man somewhere before.

A gust of wind ruffles her hair and she steadies her finger around the trigger. She doesn’t have time to be thinking about these things. She’s got a job to do, and she needs to get it done fast.

He turns around just as she finally squeezes the trigger.

Xueer wakes up gasping. She spends a solid minute just catching her breath before she reaches for her phone on the bedside table to check the time. 

It’s almost three in the morning and her alarm is set to ring at five. She spends a few minutes steadying her breathing and her heartbeat then tries to go back to sleep, but it’s a futile attempt. After tossing and turning for five, maybe even ten, minutes, she thinks, _Fuck it_ , and gets out of bed.

She walks to the kitchen and fetches herself a bottle of the melon-flavored milk she likes so much. It might help her sleep, or it might not. Whatever the case, it doesn’t look like she’s going to fall asleep again any time soon so drinking melon-flavored milk is a far better alternative to tossing and turning in bed.

Xueer sits at the dining table as she gathers her thoughts. 

Her dream… She hasn’t dreamt about that or that man in a long, long time. Of course she still remembers him, but he hasn’t haunted her dreams in so long. Not since she executed the hit on him anyway. 

She supposes she dreamt about it, about him, again because of what happened to the enforcer. Or maybe it’s less about him and more about Jiaqi. She does feel bad for him and about what happened to him, but she hasn’t quite shaken the way she felt about how _Jiaqi_ felt, about what _Jiaqi_ had to deal with, and that’s brought memories like this back to the forefront of Xueer’s mind. 

Xueer stares down at her hands. The man’s face flashes in her mind again and she imagines his blood splattered all over her hands. 

Suddenly the melon-flavored milk isn’t so appetizing anymore. She sighs, screws the cap back on the bottle, and shoves the bottle back into the fridge. She trudges back to her room and just hopes she gets a little bit more sleep before another long day ahead.

* * *

Smack, smack, smack. The man sputters out a mix of saliva and blood: lots, and lots, and _lots_ of blood. His face has been bashed in to the point it's almost unrecognizable; beaten to stomach-churning blends of black, red, and blue. There are cuts and bruises all over his torso too, and his left side is faring far worse than anywhere else they've hit him: it's bruised an ugly purplish-black that could possibly mean is ribs are broken from all the heavy kicks that side of his body took when he was curled on the ground. 

Smack, smack, smack. A fist sharply connects with his jaw, and the impact from the blow knocks his already limp and near lifeless body off the chair he'd been sitting on. For a second, Xueer thinks that he's fallen unconscious again or that he might even be dead already, but he groans and coughs out more blood. Tries to push himself up. One of the men beating him up yanks him by his armpits and throws him back on the chair. Even slaps him in the face for good measure, although Xueer thinks that at this point, the slap would do little to keep the man awake. It might just knock him right back into unconsciousness.

Smack, smack, smack. Over and over. Again and again.

This has been going on for nearly six hours now. Six long, grueling, and mind-numbing hours of watching this man get the beating of his life... and they _still_ haven't beaten the information they need out of him. It's becoming clearer and clearer to Xueer that no matter how much or how long they torture this man, he's not going to say anything.

"This is going _nowhere,_ " Xueer hears Jiaqi mutter under her breath, frustration creeping into her voice, then her eyes flit to Mr. Yang’s direction as he lights a cigarette and coolly says, “That seems to be what he's going for.”

Of course Mr. Yang is unconcerned. He already knows who’s behind all of this—and he’s one of them.

The Commissioner was as receptive as Jiaqi said he would be, though Xueer sees it less as the Commissioner being extremely grateful to the Xus and more as the Commissioner not wanting to live the rest of his life beholden to the kind of people he should be putting behind bars, not working with. He's a proud man, the Commissioner: Xueer observed as much when Jiaqi and Mr. Yang met with him. She could also tell from the persistent scowl on his face that he regarded the likes of Jiaqi and Mr. Yang as scum… but as much as he might not like them, he has no choice but to kiss their asses. 

Jiaqi didn’t really ask that much from him anyway. Just stay out of their business, that was all. It was Mr. Yang who coerced the Commissioner into lending them a few helping hands. The Commissioner didn’t look too happy about that either, but he was smart enough to quietly oblige. Not much else the man can do when someone like Mr. Yang threatens him with the lives of his wife, kids, and mistress.

So the investigation began, and the police sure did fast work out of it. It took them just a day and a half to identify the men involved in the murder and surprise, surprise: they’re the Jus’ cronies. Given the Xus’ history with the Jus, that stirred some panic and concern within the organization, with Jiaqi carrying the weight of everyone’s worries and expectations of her on her weary shoulders. After receiving the report, Jiaqi made sure that the men would be captured immediately for questioning, but only one of the two was caught. He’s the one here now in this hot and dingy warehouse having the literal living shit beaten out of him. Apparently the police found him at a brothel, so she imagines it really mustn't have been very difficult to catch him off guard. It also explains why he's got nothing on now except for the pants the police forced on him, to spare everyone's eyes or whatever. As for the other one, he tried to get away when the police raided his apartment. He opened fire on them and… suffice it to say, that worked out terribly for him.

Mr. Yang flicks his cigarette to the floor and squashes it under his Italian leather-clad foot. He slants a look at Jiaqi and says, "I don't think keeping him alive for much longer will benefit us much—or _at all,_ really,” then he gestures to the man's now completely limp body on the floor. The henchmen try to shake him back to consciousness, but it's no use. He could have just been knocked out cold. He could be dead. It could be anything. They look to Jiaqi and Mr. Yang, awaiting their instructions.

Xueer observes Jiaqi as she worries her lip, deep in thought. 

The reason they’re still here is because Jiaqi insisted on staying, just like she insisted on staying the other night. Mr. Yang told her that she didn’t have to, but Jiaqi made it clear that she didn’t care how long this would take. She wouldn’t leave until they finally got this man to answer the only question they—well, _she_ —needs answered: _Why?_ She's been backed into a corner, her life is on the line, the lives of her loved ones are on the line too, and she's got so many eyes _watching_ her, waiting for her to make a fatal mistake and fail. The least the universe could give her is an answer to that question.

That’s what Xueer thinks Jiaqi must be thinking, anyway, and seeing how Jiaqi is now, she concludes she mustn’t be wrong.

In the end, Jiaqi instructs their men, “Take him away… and make sure to keep him alive until we’re positive we don’t need him anymore.”

The men nod and begin to lift up the unconscious man from the floor. They carry him away after, so all that's left is the chair he'd been sitting on and puddles of blood on the floor.

With their lackeys out of earshot now, Jiaqi turns to Mr. Yang and asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be if we just walked up to Old Man Ju and confronted him about this?”

Mr. Yang shrugs a shoulder and replies, “Eleven on a good day, maybe. Fifteen if he’s in a terrible mood.”

Resigned but unsurprised, Jiaqi mumbles, “Yeah, I thought so.”

Mr. Yang chuckles. “We can’t be rash about this, Kiki. This is dangerous territory we’re treading.”

“I know,” Jiaqi sighs.

Mr. Yang plucks another cigarette out of his stainless steel cigarette case, positions it between his lips, then lights it. He inhales slowly, leisurely, then suggests, “How about we go somewhere and get dinner, hm?”

Jiaqi doesn’t respond immediately, which strikes Xueer as a little odd. “Sorry, Uncle, but I’ll have to pass,” Jiaqi says after a few more seconds of silence. “I’m pretty tired, and I honestly just wanna go home and sleep.”

Mr. Yang’s eyes briefly flicker to Xueer. He exhales the smoke slowly and refocuses his attention on Jiaqi. “Alright,” he replies in the most understanding voice a person can muster. Xueer would find it impressive if he didn’t get on her nerves so much. “At least eat something when you get home. It’s not good to go to bed on an empty stomach.”

“I’m thirty, not _five_ ,” Jiaqi retorts with a good-natured roll of her eyes. Her lips curl into a smile. “I’m pretty sure I know how to fend for myself and, like, _not starve_ , thank you very much.”

“Just looking out for you, kid,” Mr. Yang says, smiling back at Jiaqi. The sight of it makes Xueer’s skin crawl.

All that talk about dinner gets Xueer’s mind stuck on what she wants to eat for dinner herself, though. She’s still got some leftovers waiting to be wolfed down, and at least the food is good enough that Xueer won’t complain about having to eat reheated food after such a long and mentally grueling day. Besides, she’s too tired to _really_ care about what she puts into her stomach, and she doesn’t really have the energy left to cook either. Anything is better than nothing at this point.

Jiaqi and Mr. Yang say their goodbyes as they usually do, and when Mr. Yang pulls Jiaqi in for a hug, he looks at Xueer pointedly and for much longer than Xueer’s comfortable with. When he pulls away, he smoothly goes back to pretending that Xueer isn’t there at all.

As expected, Jiaqi is deathly silent throughout the first ten minutes of the trip back home. Xueer observes her from the rearview mirror but unlike their first day together, Jiaqi is lost too deep in her thoughts to notice. Xueer watches her for another minute then decides maybe it’s best to just leave her be. She gets it, she does. Jiaqi’s got a lot on her mind and a whole lot on her plate. She doesn’t owe anyone in this car or anyone at all a conversation, especially when she’s clearly not up for it. 

Xueer doesn’t want to say she’s _worried_... but she’s worried, there’s just no other way around it. Jiaqi’s been like this ever since that night. Not that any of this should be Xueer’s business, and not that she should care, but…

“Jiaqi.”

Jiaqi instantly turns her attention to Xueer. Xueer also catches the brief but surprised glance Mr. Gao throws her way, and she supposes he must be shocked that Xueer’s on first name basis now with Jiaqi. She ignores that for now and focuses on Jiaqi, who still looks like she’s in a daze. She must be just as surprised about Xueer actually addressing her by her name in front of others as Mr. Gao is. 

“Is something wrong?” Jiaqi asks, brows furrowing.

Xueer shakes her head and starts, “I just thought…” Xueer purses her lips as she finds the right words. “I just thought we could stop by somewhere for takeout or something,” then a smile plays on her lips when she says, “What kind of bodyguard would I be if I let you run around on an empty stomach?”

Jiaqi blinks… then she’s smiling too. “Yeah, we could do that.”

Xueer twists around in her seat—as much as she can, at least—to fully face Jiaqi, and asks, “Got anything in particular that you’d like?”

* * *

“Say, Xueer: do you always cut open bags of instant noodles… like _that?_ ”

Xueer looks up, the knife Shuxin gave her in one hand and the bag of instant noodles in her other hand. “Hm?”

Jiaqi’s mouth quirks up. She points to the knife in Xueer’s hand and says, “There’s a perfectly fine pair of scissors here, you know.”

Xueer looks down at the knife, then at the instant noodles, then back at the knife. Ah. That’s what Jiaqi means. 

“I don’t think it’s _that_ weird to use a knife for stuff like this,” Xueer mumbles, aware of how she sounds far more defensive than necessary. She closes the knife and places it down on the marble countertop, then grabs the “perfectly fine pair of scissors” Jiaqi was talking about. She frowns. “ _Is_ it weird, though?”

Jiaqi places a new batch of scallions on her cutting board as she replies, “It’s not weird, not really, but…“ She reaches out and grabs Xueer’s knife, hands it back to Xueer for a second so she can open it for her, then examines it. After, she chuckles and remarks, “This is the kind of knife you’d see being used at _the docks,_ not really in kitchens—and _especially_ not for instant noodles.”

 _Oh?_ Xueer leans against the countertop, tilts her head curiously, and asks, “How’d you know? About the knife, I mean.”

Xueer decides that her decision to bring this particular knife with her today was a good one after all. She didn’t want it to just gather dust in her bedside drawer, so it only made sense to put it to use. She never expected it would make for a decent conversation piece, though.

“Learned a bit about knives from Dad,” Jiaqi explains simply, “and I’ve done a bit of research on my own too. I can’t say I know a whole lot about them anyway, especially not compared to what my dad or even _you_ know, but this knife in particular is quite famous. Pretty sure I saw it on some _‘Top 10 Famous Knives’_ list or something. Anyway, it was apparently in this movie—”

“ _Silence of the Lambs,_ ” Xueer mumbles, remembering what Shuxin told her about it. Not that those words mean anything to her.

“Yup, that one. Have you watched it?” 

“Nope. Honestly, I never even heard of it before I got this knife.”

“You should check it out. It’s… interesting.”

“That doesn’t sound very promising.”

Jiaqi chuckles. “Where’d you get this thing anyway?”

“My friends visited the other day, and I got it as a gift from one of them. I normally carry around a different knife, but I figured it would be a waste to just _not_ use this one at all.”

“Ah.” It seems she’s already figured out that Xueer is referring to Sunday evening. “I’m sorry again about that, by the way.”

“It’s fine. My friends and I were done with dinner by the time you called anyway.”

If Jiaqi isn’t entirely convinced that _all_ Xueer did that evening was go out for dinner with her friends, she doesn’t say anything about it. Just the way Xueer was dressed that evening should have been enough for Jiaqi to deduce that Xueer was definitely up to something else.

Xueer watches Jiaqi awkwardly fumble with the knife as she tries to figure out how to close it without chopping her fingers off. She takes the knife back and beckons Jiaqi closer. “Like this,” she says, then she shows Jiaqi how to close the knife. 

Jiaqi has a go at it, and even though she still looks terrified of the (honestly quite intimidating) blade, she manages to close the knife twice, the second time significantly smoother than the first, so that’s something. 

“You shouldn’t be afraid of the blade,” Xueer tells Jiaqi as she pockets the knife. “Believe it or not, that only increases the risk of you injuring yourself.”

“I don’t think you can _really_ blame me, though,” Jiaqi jokes as she starts working on the scallions. “That _is_ a cannibal serial killer’s knife of choice, after all.”

Xueer blinks. “He’s a _cannibal?_ ”

They’re having stir-fried instant noodles for dinner tonight. When Xueer asked Jiaqi what she would like, she expected Jiaqi to say fast food or, well, literally anything else _but_ instant noodles. Jiaqi explained that she and her college roommate always used to eat it, at first just to get rid of all of the instant noodles and leftovers they had lying around, then it eventually just became a thing for them. “This is about as comforting as comfort food can get,” Jiaqi proudly stated as she dropped another five packets of instant noodles into the plastic basket. Xueer doesn’t really mind, and she’s not particularly picky with food anyway. That, and of course what Jiaqi wants, Jiaqi gets. That’s just how this goes. 

It _does_ taste amazing, though. Xueer is pleasantly surprised at how leftover fried chicken and leftover beef stew go well together with instant noodles… and she doesn’t think that just because she’s pretty damn tired and hungry. 

Xueer lets Jiaqi give her a synopsis of _Silence of the Lambs,_ then she lets Jiaqi laugh at her for not letting go of the fact that some fictional character that happens to be a _cannibal_ is named _Hannibal,_ which she thinks is just the farthest thing from subtle. She lets Jiaqi have her way in every possible way tonight, from getting to decide what they’ll be having for dinner to talking her ear off about anything and everything, because that seems to be the right thing to do. Or, at least, it’s the _best_ Xueer can do.

She’s been observing Jiaqi the entire time, trying to catch any signs that the past few days have finally gotten to Jiaqi, or that Jiaqi is beginning to suspect something _else_ is going on. So far, though, it looks like Jiaqi is holding up quite well. She’s been really quiet and glum since that evening, which is completely understandable, but at least she’s in a… well, Xueer wouldn’t exactly call it a _good_ mood, but it’s _not bad_ either. 

Jiaqi is in a _decent_ mood, that’s what it is. 

_“Meow.”_

Xueer looks down at Q-Mi, who’s been waiting by her feet for the past few minutes. Q-Mi tried kitty cat eyes-ing Jiaqi into feeding her but that didn’t work, so that’s why she’s trying to pull the same trick on Xueer now. Unlike Jiaqi, though, Xueer has absolutely no resolve and it only takes another soft “ _Meow_ ” for her to give in. Xueer looks over her shoulder to make sure Jiaqi’s still preoccupied with transferring some more noodles from the pan into her bowl, then she plucks a large chunk of fried chicken from her noodles and drops it to Q-Mi. Q-Mi takes the chicken into her mouth as soon as it hits the ground. She expectantly stares back up at Xueer after. _“Meow.”_

Xueer puts a finger to her lips. “Shhh,” she tells Q-Mi, then she drops a few more pieces of chicken and beef. She throws in some noodles too, mostly out of curiosity. She doesn’t know if cats like noodles or would be _willing_ to eat noodles, but she’s about to find out. 

“I can’t believe you’re _bribing_ her now,” Jiaqi says as she walks back. She takes a seat on the couch across the one Xueer’s sitting on, looks at Q-Mi, then shakes her head disapprovingly. “Bad kitty.”

Q-Mi, every bit as shameless as Jiaqi usually is, just tilts her head at Jiaqi and continues to wait by Xueer’s feet. 

Xueer smiles lopsidedly, shrugs, and replies, “You gotta do what you gotta do.” She drops some more noodles to Q-Mi after seeing her eagerly eat it up. She remembers that she should be feeding herself too and shoves some food into her own mouth.

Jiaqi laughs. “Just don’t feed her too much, I guess,” she says, then after a moment, adds more sheepishly, “I suppose I’m not really in the position to judge you, though.”

Xueer furrows her brows and slows her chewing. 

Jiaqi looks more apologetic than embarrassed as she begins to explain, “The only not-so-weird way I can put this is that I’m sort of, kind of guilty of it too.” She clears her throat. “With you.”

It’s still not clicking for Xueer. Intelligently, she asks, “Huh?”

 _“Well…”_ Jiaqi’s resigned sigh melts into a good-natured chuckle. “Remember when I asked you to have breakfast with me?”

Xueer chews even slower now as her brain tries to process what Jiaqi’s just said, and after a few more seconds, it all finally begins to make sense to her. She swallows her food first—she might be shocked but that doesn’t mean she’s completely forgotten her manners—then slowly says, “You… _what_?”

“I don’t really wanna think of it as _bribery._ I like to think of it more as just me trying to get on your good side after, you know, being a tactless idiot and saying something rude to someone I’d _just_ met—you know, as an apology—but—“ Jiaqi holds her hands up in defeat. “You know what? I’m just gonna stop there because the more I talk, the weirder it all gets.”

Jiaqi being Jiaqi, though, she doesn’t actually stop there and takes Xueer’s confused silence as an opportunity to clarify, “Okay, what I _really_ mean to say is that I really wanted to make it up to you somehow and I thought that doing so through food would be my… I don’t know… my best shot at it or something.” She exhales. “Okay, _now_ I’m done.”

Xueer’s not really sure what to say. All she knows is that she didn’t expect any of _that_ to come out of Jiaqi’s mouth. 

She didn’t think much of it at the time, simply chalking it up to Jiaqi being… well, _Jiaqi,_ just doing Jiaqi things, and she certainly didn’t think Jiaqi was still hung up on that thing. Some time had passed by then and Jiaqi never brought it up again, so Xueer obviously just assumed that she’d gotten over it already. 

“You don’t have to ‘make it up to me’ or anything,” Xueer reassures Jiaqi, now all too aware of the dilemma she’s apparently been causing Jiaqi this entire time. She really didn’t think Jiaqi would care all that much about it. She knew Jiaqi was nice, but she honestly wasn’t prepared for her to be _this_ nice. “I told you, didn’t I? It’s all good. _We’re_ good.”

“Yeah, I know you did, but I couldn’t help but still think you were mad at me for it.” Jiaqi pouts now as she says, “And I just didn’t want you to be.”

Q-Mi nudges at Xueer’s leg with her paw to get her attention again. _Not now, Q-Mi,_ Xueer thinks, and maybe Q-Mi has telepathic abilities because she lets out a disappointed _mrrp_ and walks away. 

“To be honest with you,” Jiaqi continues on to explain, “sometimes it’s hard to figure out just what you’re thinking. Especially when you were just new to the job. And—okay, I get it. You’re my bodyguard and we don’t really _have_ to be super chummy with each other or anything, but you can be _so_ quiet too and at times I’d wonder if you just… didn’t like me or something. Then I’d think, ‘ _Shit_ , it’s because of what I said when I first met her, isn’t it?’, or maybe you weren’t comfortable around me or the boys or _something,_ then I’d think that, okay, I have to rectify that. And I honestly just didn’t want you to _not_ like me, not even just because I think that’d be bad for our professional relationship, but—“ For the first time since Xueer’s met her, Jiaqi actually _blushes,_ but unlike Xueer she handles it far more gracefully. “ _Aaaaand_ I’m rambling.”

Xueer can only smile, a little touched and a little guilty. No. She feels plenty guilty. There’s just something terrible about knowing that Jiaqi’s been trying this entire time to befriend her and make it up to her for a comment she made before that’s honestly insignificant now, and that Jiaqi’s been thinking this entire time that Xueer’s been distant with her because of that comment or because she doesn’t like her. It’s terrible, so, _so_ terrible, and _god,_ does Xueer wish things were as simple as that.

“I wasn’t mad at you,” Xueer says in the end, and she chuckles softly. “I honestly don’t think it’s even _possible_ for anyone to be.”

That makes Jiaqi smile, at least, though that’s quickly replaced by a look of surprise when Xueer admits to her, “ _But_ what you said did bring back— _stuff._ You know, personal stuff. Don’t get me wrong. I know you meant no harm, and it’s not like you even knew about any of the stuff I have going on anyway. It’s just… what you said sounded a lot like the kind of stuff I used to hear a lot from other people: the same shit, over and over. And even if I’m way past that point in my life now and god knows I should know better than to still care about that… Even just being reminded of that time and of the _person_ I was all those years ago…” She shrugs. “All of it honestly still kinda sucks.

“I’m sorry too, Jiaqi,” Xueer finally says. “It wasn’t your fault. I was just reading too deeply into what you said, when I know—no, I _knew_ —you had no bad intentions or anything. This is all on _me_ , and I’m sorry for turning it all on _you_ instead and making you feel terrible about it all this time.”

Jiaqi is quiet at first, clearly busy processing everything Xueer’s just told her, but after a while she smiles gently and tells Xueer, “Don’t just brush off or invalidate your own feelings. I might not have known any of this at the time I made that comment, but it still hurt you. I’m still really sorry that it did, I always will be, but you shouldn’t make little of _why_ you felt the way you did either.”

Xueer’s mouth tugs upward. “I do feel bad for making _you_ feel bad, though.”

“Hey, at least we’ve finally cleared all of _that_ up right? Clear and open communication just works _wonders_ , doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Who’d have thought?” Xueer goes back to being serious again for a moment as she says, “And, uh… I, um, guess I don’t really mean to be cold or distant with you or anything. It’s just…” _I was sent here to kill you and it’d honestly just makes things worse and more awkward for me if I got to know you as a person, got close to you, and saw you as something more than just an objective I’m contractually obligated to fulfill… except I’m an idiot and I’m letting all of this get way out of hand and way out of my control_ —but if Xueer actually said that, she’d freak Jiaqi and _herself_ out, so she settles for a mostly harmless lie instead: “I’m just not used to having a boss like you, I suppose. None of my previous bosses were like… this. Like you. They weren’t terrible bosses, don’t get me wrong, but they were all pretty old-school. The kinds that didn’t need to or care to know you to be able to work with you, and only really care about you being there when they need you. There’s never really anything _personal_ with them, you know?”

“They don’t sound like a lot of fun,” Jiaqi jokes.

“Yeah, they weren’t,” Xueer agrees, kicking aside any guilt she might feel over lying about this stuff to Jiaqi’s face. “But…”

Maybe it’s just because she’s already said way too much and opened up way too much to Jiaqi, and maybe it’s because she decided to get all _soft_ on her at the end of a long and tiring day, when her exhaustion’s muddled her judgement, but _something_ possesses Xueer to confess in a small voice, “I don’t mind what _we_ have, though.” She promptly shoves a tangle of noodles, vegetables, and meat into her mouth to prevent herself from saying anything more.

And there goes Jiaqi again with that way her eyes and her entire face just lights up like Xueer’s just wrestled the moon out of the sky and handed it to her. It makes Xueer feel giddy-sick.

They wash the dishes together when they’ve finished eating. It’s a quiet affair, and Xueer doesn’t mind. She prefers it this way, actually, especially after how much they’ve just told each other over the course of their late, late dinner. Xueer, especially, has said far too much. She’s just glad that Jiaqi’s too tired to pry and probe any further… for now. She doesn’t doubt that Jiaqi will bring all of this up again soon enough, one day, whatever. She lets herself find comfort in the fact that at least she doesn’t have to deal with that _now._

“Thanks again for tonight, Xueer,” Jiaqi says. She’s seeing Xueer off again tonight, this time with Q-Mi curled up in her arms.

“I should be the one thanking you since you did most of the cooking,” Xueer replies. She reaches out to scratch Q-Mi behind her ears and is delighted when the cat doesn’t flinch away or reject her touch. Bribery with food: it’s tried and tested. She should have just done that from the start, really. Q-Mi yawns and it brings a smile to Xueer’s face.

Jiaqi runs her fingers through Q-Mi’s fur and says, “Well, you’re not exactly wrong about that, but I think you know what I mean.” She glides her finger down between Q-Mi’s eyes and scratches her under her chin. “That was really sweet of you, actually.”

Xueer blinks. Did Jiaqi just call her… _sweet?_

Unable to fully absorb and process that information, all Xueer can do is stiffly and awkwardly say, “It’s, uh…” She clears her throat. “It’s my job to make sure you’re okay.”

Jiaqi doesn’t tease her for being an awkward mess, thank god, but she does giggle, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great,” then she takes Xueer’s hand in hers and gives it a light squeeze. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Xueer replies weakly, trying not to wince at that same burning, _scalding_ sensation she felt the first time Jiaqi ever held her hand. Her hand will probably melt if she lets it stay in Jiaqi’s grip for much longer. “See you tomorrow.”

Mr. Gao drives Xueer back to her apartment. This, too, is a quiet affair. Xueer spends most of the ride staring out the window, deep in thought as she marvels at this city that never sleeps. The only time Xueer tears her eyes away is to look down at her hand resting on her lap—the very that Jiaqi just held in her own—to check if it actually _has_ melted off. 

Miraculously, it hasn’t.

* * *

Xueer tosses and turns in bed again. She’s been doing a lot of that these past few days. Tossing and turning and waking up at some ungodly hour and then falling asleep again feeling even more tired.

Another few minutes of her tossing and turning pass before she decides to just get up and find something to do to help her go back to sleep. That, of course, means that she makes a beeline for the kitchen so she can chug down another bottle of melon-flavored milk. 

Much to her dismay, the bottle of melon-flavored drink she’s drinking now is the last one in her fridge. She makes a mental note to drop by the supermarket and buy more, but she’s pretty sure she’s going to forget all about this later. 

The problem with waking up in the middle of the night apart from, well, _waking up in the middle of the night_ is that it leaves Xueer with her thoughts and the time of the night just makes everything so much more uncomfortable for her. It’s three in the morning so obviously the last thing she needs is to be going through an existential crisis or be thinking about the small but fundamental shifts in her relationship with Jiaqi… which might as well be the same thing as an existential crisis with how much of a headache it gives Xueer.

Well, she probably shouldn’t be surprised this is the stuff she’s thinking about now when this is _all_ she’s been thinking about over the past few days. It’s fair to say she brought this upon herself because she _was_ the one who decided to have dinner with Jiaqi and run her mouth about things she shouldn’t have run her mouth about. Still, Xueer would really like it if this and if _Jiaqi_ just stopped occupying this much space in her brain. She’s got a whole lot else going on in her head as is. For example, she thought having to deal with Mr. Yang’s sneaky bastard ass was bad enough, but now she’s got to deal with the Ju family too and she’s really not sure which one of them is going to be the first to fuck her over somehow. She’s got all of that going on and the only one she’s got to help her make sense of all of this is herself.

 _God,_ Xueer groans mentally.

She finishes her drink, tosses the empty bottle into the trash, and then walks back to her room. No use trying to make sense of any of this now. She doesn’t really have to wake up early later—Jiaqi's been making them report for work later and later these days—but she does still need to get as much sleep as she can. So she tucks herself back into bed and tries to force herself back to sleep.

Then an idea hits her.

She grabs her phone from the bedside table, quickly types out a message, goes over it once to make sure she didn’t make any typos, and then she hits send. Xiaotang’s asleep now so Xueer won’t be getting a reply any time soon, so she wraps the blanket around herself again and squeezes her eyes shut.

* * *

Xueer swipes through the pages of the document Xiaotang sent her on her tablet, her phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder. When this attempt (her third attempt, to be exact) at calling Xiaotang fails too, she redials Xiaotang’s number, places her phone down on the dining table, and puts her it on loud speaker this time. She massages away the crick that’s developed in her neck from how long she’s held that awkward phone-between-ear-and-shoulder position then busies herself with reading again.

Xueer lands on the page detailing information about Ju Jingyi, the eldest grandchild of the Ju patriarch, and his _favorite_ grandchild, apparently. She’d say Jingyi is in somewhat of a similar position to Jiaqi but unlike Jiaqi, Jingyi seems a lot more eager, willing, and prepared to take over the family business… if her grandfather would actually be willing to let a woman take over, that is. She’s also got an equally as ambitious, significantly less adequate, and miserably jealous younger brother to deal and compete with. Things get messy here because while Jingyi might be grandpa’s favorite, her brother still has tradition working in his favor and it’s highly likely that he’ll get the throne in the end because of it—but of course Jingyi won’t take that sitting down. 

It’s basically just a lot of in-fighting, which isn’t all that much different from what’s going on within the Xu family. 

None of that is Xueer’s business, obviously, and she doesn’t have to care about the Jus’ family drama (god knows she’s got enough of _that_ to deal with with the Xus), but since they’ve made their involvement in Mr. Yang’s plan… _public,_ Xueer’s decided to learn anything and everything she can about the Xus’ greatest rivals. Of course, there’s a fifty-fifty chance that all this information could end up being completely relevant in the end, but whatever happens, Xueer would rather be prepared to some degree than be completely unprepared and then just hope for the best when shit hits the fan.

But that’s not what she _actually_ wants to talk to Xiaotang about today.

There’s… something else.

Her phone rings on and on for another minute before Xiaotang finally greets Xueer with an irritated, “What?”

_Okay, here goes._

Xueer brings her phone back to her ear and replies, “You sure got some nerve getting annoyed at _me_ when _you’re_ the one who took forever to answer.”

“I was busy,” Xiaotang says unhelpfully and unconvincingly. She yawns. “Well, go on. The hell do you want?”

Xueer raises a brow. “Did you just wake up?”

“I don’t see how that really matters.”

“It’s two in the afternoon, you sound like you just woke up, and just a few seconds ago you told me you were busy.”

“Yeah, _busy sleeping,_ jackass.”

Xueer’s lips curl into a smile as she teases, “Are you sure that was the _only_ thing you were busy doing?”

Xiaotang is silent for a long, long moment, then she sighs and finally admits, “Fine, I brought a girl home with me last night.”

“Well, I guess that explains why you sound like you got no sleep.” Xueer laughs at Xiaotang’s embarrassed groan. “Your girl still there?”

Xiaotang yawns again. “Yeah. Yeah, she is. Which is why I’d really rather not be having this conversation right now.”

“She’s still asleep, isn’t she? Then it should be fine for us to talk about… you know.”

“I wasn’t talking about that,” Xiaotang says, and Xueer snickers when she realizes Xiaotang meant she was hoping for a round four or five or whatever before the girl goes, “but fine. You check the stuff I sent you yet?”

“I’m reading it now, actually.” 

“That was all the info I could get you on such short notice,” Xiaotang says, her words garbled around the food she’s chewing on. She makes annoyingly loud slurping noises as she washes down the food with a glass of water (Xueer assumes it’s water anyway). “Quite the sticky situation you’ve got yourself in, my friend.”

“No shit,” Xueer replies distractedly while she skims through the information on Jingyi’s brother this time. She goes over everything another time and remarks, “That’s interesting.”

Xiaotang chews loudly. “What is?”

“I just figured that between the two, Mr. Yang would have approached the sister, Jingyi, with the offer, not the brother. I mean, she definitely seems to have more reason to buy into his promises and then endorse it to Grandpa Ju.” When Xiaotang continues to chew loudly while she thinks about what Xueer said, Xueer grumbles, “Can you _please_ stop that? Not only is it irritating, it’s also gross having all your chewing sounds all up in my ear.”

“You deserve to have my chewing sounds all up in your ear for waking me up and getting in the way of me getting some,” Xiaotang fires back. She does stop, though, and takes on a more serious tone when she says, “I get where you’re coming from, yeah, but think of this way: Jingyi is the, uh… let’s just say that between her and her brother, she’s the sharper tool in the shed. She might want an edge over her brother to fully convince Gramps to name her his heir instead, sure, but she’s smart enough to know that it might not be a good idea to team up with Mr. Yang. So if Mr. Yang walked up to her with an offer too good to be true, she would—theoretically—be able to see it for what it really is. She’d also probably be able to call his bluff before he even gets to play his cards, which would be less than ideal for Mr. Yang, don’t you think?”

“I remember Mr. Yang saying about Grandpa Ju becoming desperate ever since Mr. Xu pretty much humiliated him and the Ju family,” Xueer muses. “Maybe Jingyi’s brother approached him with the offer from that angle.”

“Yeah, maybe. Probably. I mean, Jingyi’s always been Gramps’ favorite apparently, and if she’d just been born a boy he probably wouldn’t have hesitated to name her his heir already. For now, that’s the only edge her brother has over her, because he really just doesn’t seem like the kind of guy you should be entrusting with important shit. Cocky, womanizing, overly-emotional oaf, is what he is. He makes his sister look like a Nobel Prize winner, which is, you know, pretty damn hard to compete with, traditions be damned.”

“So the brother goes up to Grandpa Ju with an offer he can’t refuse,” Xueer finishes for Xiaotang, “knowing that this is something the old man’s wanted for a long time, and he can even make it look like their longtime enemies are handing it to them on a silver platter. Put whatever spin he wants on it. And he knows that if he can make all of this work out in _their_ favor and have it end with _them_ having full and exclusive control of Shanghai again, then he’s more or less won against his sister already.”

“Pretty much,” Xiaotang says, then she scoffs. “I’m still surprised you didn’t just ask Shuxin to dig up all this stuff for you.”

Xueer sets the tablet aside and leans back into her chair. “She’s got a lot on her plate, and I just didn’t want to add more to it.”

“You _could_ just say that you didn’t want her to feel worse about giving you the job of a lifetime... that you also possibly may not be walking out of alive.” 

“I don’t see why I have to when you seem to have it all figured out,” Xueer replies sarcastically. She chuckles after. “I didn’t think she would make up some really elaborate excuse for you guys to come here and visit me.”

“This is Shuxin we’re talking about,” Xiaotang says fondly, exasperatedly, “so nothing is ever _not_ elaborate or extravagant with her.”

Xiaotang’s got a point there. Shuxin’s the only person Xueer knows who would use _assassination_ as an excuse to visit her beloved best friend and personally hand her an apology gift. 

All things considered, though, Shuxin really shouldn’t feel bad about it. It was Xueer, after all, who agreed to take on the job, and Mr. Yang withheld a fuckload of information from her too, so she can’t really be blamed for not knowing this job would be bigger and more complicated than promised. It’s not like she knew that the two biggest crime families in Shanghai would be going to war against each other again after years of relative peace and quiet, and it’s not like she knew that she’d be dropping her best friend right in the middle of that mess.

“Now that we’ve got all of that out of the way,” Xiaotang says, “what did you _really_ want to talk to me about? I doubt you actually needed me to help you make sense out of all of that information. All the stuff we talked about just now, you probably would have figured out on your own eventually, assuming you haven’t figured it out already.”

It’s Xueer’s turn to fall completely silent. 

“Ah, I get it now,” Xiaotang says, a (terrible, awful, _teasing_ ) smile in her voice. “This is about that raging boner of yours, isn’t it?”

Well. 

Xueer supposes it’s only fair that Xiaotang gets to take a jab at her now after all of her teasing earlier. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

Xiaotang laughs loud enough to wake up the girl she’d been sleeping with. “You know, you and Shuxin aren’t so different after all. You probably had me do all this research for you just so you’d have an excuse to come to me and mope about your girl problems.”

_Well._

“Hey, I actually _do_ need the shit I asked you to look up for me,” Xueer replies defensively. “I don’t think I need to keep reminding you of the predicament I’m in and of the fact that I’m dealing with some seriously dangerous and seriously fucked up people here. Besides, it’s not _really_ about that.” She catches herself fast enough to add, “And _no,_ that wasn’t me admitting I—I _like_ her or anything,” before Xiaotang can tease her mercilessly about it.

“Look, I don’t doubt any of the stuff about how fucked up your situation is, you know I don’t, but all that other stuff… _I mean..._ That’s a whole lotta hoops you just jumped through to get to this point.”

“Okay, _fine,_ ” Xueer grumbles. She stops herself from crossing her arms over her chest like some child throwing a tantrum. “I figured this would _also_ be a good opportunity to talk to you about… _you know._ There. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Xueer can just imagine the smug grin Xiaotang must have on her dumb face right now. “What exactly is your problem with she-who-must-not-be-named this time, hm? Do enlighten me.”

It’s ridiculous how Xueer’s mind goes blank just when she’s finally about to get all of this off of her chest. She’s just… not sure how or where to start. Does she start by telling Xiaotang about how different Jiaqi has been the past few days and how that’s got Xueer feeling all sorts of weird things? Or how it’s got her going out of her way to make Jiaqi feel better even just for a while? Or does she start with how being able to make Jiaqi look at her _like that_ and smile at her _like that_ makes her feel really good but also really, _really_ bad?

In the end, all Xueer can do is let out a frustrated and confused noise. 

Xiaotang is quiet for a moment. Then: “That bad, huh?”

“Things have been…” Xueer starts, but her brain doesn’t organize her thoughts fast enough for her to construct a coherent sentence out of all the jumble of words in her mind and on the tip of her tongue. She tries again, slower this time, and manages to get out, “Things have been… a little weird—between us, I mean. I guess.”

“Okay,” Xiaotang says, patient and understanding, which—surprise!—she actually can be. “Weird how, exactly?”

“It’s just—a lot’s been going on, right? A lot’s happened. A lot _more_ is about to happen. And Jiaqi, she’s… obviously all of this has fucked her up, right? It’s fucked her up real bad and it’s all just messing with her head, and I can’t really blame her because it’s all just _so much,_ and it’s all so fucked up, and—“ Xueer pinches the bridge of her nose. “Is any of this… Am I making any sense right now?”

“Oh, it makes perfect sense,” Xiaotang replies. She sighs. “ _Jeez,_ Xueer, this is as cliché as it gets.”

Xueer blinks. “Huh?”

Finally, Xiaotang hits her in the face with a terrible, terrible truth: “You’re getting all _soft_ on her.”

…Well.

“The entire time you were rambling,” Xiatoang carries on when Xueer can’t get a single word out of her mouth, “all you talked about was Jiaqi this, Jiaqi that, Jiaqi here, Jiaqi there— You get my point. You say things have been ‘a little weird’ between the two of you but I’m really starting to think it’s only weird _to you_ because you have the emotional intelligence of a spoon sometimes.”

Xueer pouts despite herself. “ _Hey…_ That’s kinda mean…”

“Yeah, I know, I know. Sorry. But you get what I’m trying to tell you, right?”

“I guess… Maybe? Fuck, I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”

“Hey,” Xiaotang says sympathetically, “I get it. I know Shuxin and I teased the living shit out of you about it, but I get it, I do. It really _is_ awkward being that up close and personal with the person you’ve been hired to kill—and not just point blank gun-to-the-forehead up close and personal, but also _personal_ up close and personal. Whether you like it or not, you learn to see her as something more than just the price tag on her head, and that can get really, _really_ uncomfortable. And, well, there’s also the fact that you’re _you._

“To say you wouldn’t hurt a fly would be highly inaccurate and ironic for very obvious reasons, but, I mean…” Xiaotang sighs. “Xueer, bless your heart, but you’re _nice._ Yeah, you’re messed up too, Jesus, but you’re not evil or cruel. You’re not heartless. Hell, I think you’ve got a whole _lot_ of heart. That’s just who you are _,_ and I love that about you, but I’m sure you’re starting to understand how that’s becoming a bit of a problem for you right now, right?”

Xueer purses her lips. She knew Xiaotang would give her an earful about this, but that still didn’t prepare her for the _barrage_ of things Xiaotang’s dumping on her now. All of which are true, unfortunately for Xueer.

“I don’t know what it is you see in her,” Xiaotang finally says, “but whatever it is, whatever it might be… I just need to know that you aren’t going to compromise the job and, more importantly, _your life_ because of it.”

“I won’t,” Xueer replies, but she doesn’t sound convincing to her own ears. Firmer this time, she says, “Of course I won’t.”

Xiaotang hums. They’re both quiet for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, until Xiaotang breaks the silence by joking, “I can see why you didn’t go to Shuxin first about this.”

Xueer lets out an ungainly laugh. “Yeah, shit— I think she’d freak out or something.”

“Or plan your wedding for you.”

Xueer wrinkles her nose. “I honestly don’t know what’s worse.”

“But you know… I suppose I shouldn’t be _so_ surprised.”

Here Xiaotang goes again. “Care to explain?”

“Well, she has the, you know—the cheekbones. Like Yuxin, actually.”

 _“What?”_ Xueer is just so genuinely confused and so, so lost.

Xiaotang heaves a sigh. “You _know_ what I mean, but since you want to keep playing dumb, let me spell it out for you: she’s _exactly_ your type.”

“I…” Xueer starts weakly, “…need to get ready for work.”

Xiaotang huffs. “Yeah, I was wondering why you’re sulking and yearning on company time. Syndicate… crime… time… _whatever._ You get my point. Shouldn’t you be fulfilling your knight-in-shining-armor duties right now?”

“Jiaqi cancelled all of her appointments this morning,” Xueer explains as she walks back to her room. She throws open the doors of her cabinet and shoves the tablet under a pile of neatly folded clothes. After, she picks out the clothes she’ll be wearing today. “We’re attending the guy’s wake later and I guess she just needed some time to, you know…”

“Be in her feelings?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Xueer suddenly hears another woman’s voice calling for Xiaotang, and she smiles to herself. “Well, don’t let me hold you up.”

Xiaotang chuckles and says, “You know I love you right? I’m always just a call away if you need someone to knock some common sense back into that honestly very beautiful head of yours.”

“Yeah, I know, and I love you too, idiot.”

“Says the even bigger idiot.” 

Xiaotang falls concerningly silent for a while, prompting Xueer to tell her, “Hey, don’t worry too much, alright? I promise I won’t do anything stupid.” 

“Yeah, well,” Xiaotang replies, “you’ve never seen what you’re like when you get like this. You make it hard not to worry.”

Before Xueer can even ask her what the _hell_ she means by that, Xiaotang more chirpily says, “Well, anyway, good luck with the raging boner! Hope you sort that one out soon, ‘cause I’m about to sort out mine,” then hangs up. She’s probably thrown her phone across the room too or dunked it into her aquarium to make sure no one else can bother her.

Xueer stares down at her phone for a while. Then she sighs.

* * *

The wake is a quiet and somber affair, because of course it is. It would be inappropriate for it to be anything else but quiet and somber.

Xueer has spent a good portion of it—about an hour, at this point—preoccupied with sorting out her own thoughts. Mostly she thinks about what she and Xiaotang talked about earlier in the day, which is… a lot, really. It’s a whole lot to think about and process and make any sense out of. She’s especially bothered by that thing Xiaotang said about her “getting like this” and the fact that she won’t be able to figure out why it’s supposedly a problem if she can’t figure out what Xiaotang meant in the first place. Why did Xiaotang even have to be so cryptic about it anyway? What was all that about? 

Ugh. Xueer hoped that talking to Xiaotang would provide her with some sense of clarity, and it has to an extent, but it’s also left her with even more questions and more things to think about.

Feeling a headache coming on from all of the thinking she’s been doing, Xueer decides to focus all of her attention on everything else going on around her instead.

The room is abuzz with whispered conversations. That hardly comes as a surprise to Xueer. A whole lot has happened this week alone, they’re preparing to go to war with the Jus again, and it seems like it’s finally sinking in for everyone that the organization is on the cusp of a new era. All of that because of one particularly grisly murder. Well, okay, it’s obviously not just because of that, but no one else in this room aside from Xueer and Mr. Yang know the truth behind all of this. 

Xueer looks around the room. Almost all the guests are members of the Xu organization, and each person has at least one bodyguard within the premise while the rest of their security detail wait outside. Even Xukun, Mrs. Cai’s son, is here. Seeing pretty much the entire organization gathered here makes the wake feel less like a wake and more like a conference of sorts. There’s definitely more talking than grieving that’s being done, which makes Xueer feel bad for the dead man’s wife. Sure, everyone came here to extend their condolences, but it’s also clear to see that everyone is far more concerned about what the Jus might do next.

It’s also hard to ignore the way everyone’s got their eyes on Jiaqi. Xueer knows that Jiaqi is fully aware of it too, because who wouldn’t be when everyone in the room is boring holes into the back of your skull, but she’s got Dai Meng and Sun Rui to distract her from all of the unwanted attention at least. Like all the other guests, they talk in hushed voices so Xueer can’t really make out what they’re saying or discussing with each other, but this is the most serious she’s ever seen the three of them, which in and of itself already tells Xueer everything she needs to know.

Mr. Yang and Xukun make their way back to Jiaqi, Dai Meng, and Sun Rui. They spent most of their time here talking to the dead man’s wife, presumably about their plans for her son and about Xukun taking him under his wing, just like Mr. Yang suggested to Jiaqi. It’s hard to tell whether or not she’s happy about anything they promised her because she’s as quiet and unresponsive as she was on the night of her husband’s murder. Xueer’s been standing in this corner of the room for some time now and not once did she see the woman leave her seat or really interact with her guests. The other family members assume responsibility for the latter, and if the kids were here already they would also be part of that, but Xueer heard Mr. Yang mention that they wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. 

While Mr. Yang and Xukun report back to Jiaqi, Xueer scans the room with her eyes and catches a number of people throwing glances at Jiaqi’s way then whispering among themselves. She already has some guesses about what they must be saying about Jiaqi, and she’s certain that Jiaqi knows too. But hey, if Jiaqi is going to be gracious enough to ignore whatever not-so-nice things they might be saying about her while she’s in the same room as them, then Xueer can do the same. 

Besides, none of that is her business anyway. At least it shouldn’t be. What people say about Jiaqi shouldn’t matter to Xueer simply because they don’t matter at all. Who cares what they say or think about Jiaqi? It’s not like their opinions have any bearing on Xueer’s life or what she’s been hired to do. 

That doesn’t stop Xueer from giving those people the stink-eye, though. 

Not because she cares, obviously, but because that just seems like the thing she should be doing when people talk shit about her boss. It seems like the most bodyguard- and right hand woman-esque thing to do. But it’s not because she cares like that or in any other way whatsoever. Absolutely not.

…Right?

Xueer has to stop herself from groaning. Sometimes there’s really nothing worse than Xiaotang being right about something. 

Maybe Xueer has started getting all soft on Jiaqi, but it’s not like this won’t pass. Yeah, that’s it. Xueer’s only being like this because anyone with basic human decency would feel bad for Jiaqi too, and according to Xiaotang, Xueer’s apparently (still) got a whole lot of that. This will pass, Xueer will get the job done, and she will never have to think about any of this ever again. Until then, she has no choice but to weather out all of the weird and confusing things she’s been thinking, feeling, and going through, but isn’t that just how life works anyway?

They end up leaving earlier than Xueer expected they would, but spending a significant portion of their time here just reading the room and observing everyone’s reactions to Jiaqi’s presence has helped her understand that Jiaqi isn’t really welcome here after all. That became most evident when Jiaqi went up to the dead man’s kin to pay her respects one last time before leaving and she was met with cold, hostile silence. Jiaqi took that like a champ, of course, but Xueer still thinks it’s not really fair for them to be directing their anger at Jiaqi. Then again, it’s also unfair for Xueer to be judgmental of them and their anger, more specifically, when they’ve just lost a loved one, and in such a terrible way too.

But there’s just… there’s just something a little sad about the way Jiaqi just takes it. The family’s animosity, everyone’s doubts—she takes it all, accepts it all, and Xueer doesn’t sense even a hint of anger or resentment from Jiaqi. It’s not that Xueer thinks Jiaqi is a push-over for that, because she really doesn’t think that at all, it’s just… It’s just sad. It’s sad that all the blame has gone to Jiaqi, who’s done nothing but try her best to lead in her father’s stead and be whatever this organization needs her to be. It’s sad that she has no choice but to accept the blame because that’s what’s expected of her. It’s sad that no matter what she decides to do as a response to this man’s murder and, more importantly, to the Jus’ challenge, everyone will still doubt her or question her eligibility to lead anyway. Nothing she does will satisfy these people, and Xueer knows that Jiaqi knows that too and has accepted that as her cross to bear, but everything is just— 

Xueer is snapped out of her thoughts when Jiaqi asks her, “Can we can stop by somewhere first before you guys drop me off?”

Xueer holds the backseat door open for Jiaqi and says, “…It depends.” When Jiaqi gives her a questioning look, she sheepishly explains, “It’s not that I want to say no, but I’m sure you’ll understand why it’s best to not have you out in the open so much given the… uh… current state of things, if you will. And aside from that…” She looks around then back at Jiaqi. “Almost everyone in the organization is gathered here tonight. I’m not saying they will do it, but we can’t write off the possibility of the Jus taking advantage of that either.”

Jiaqi quirks her lips into a smile, darkly amused. “Like something straight out of The Godfather,” she remarks, and at least Xueer gets the reference this time. She sighs after and says, “I suppose you do have a point, though,” then steps into the car.

Xueer’s eyes dart back and forth between the rearview mirror and the side mirror, checking to make sure no one is following them. She also throws curious glances at Jiaqi from the rearview mirror to see how she’s doing, but it’s honestly hard to tell because Jiaqi’s been quiet and impassive since they left the temple, and all she’s done since is stare out the window. Xueer knows that Jiaqi isn’t, like, mad at her for earlier—and why would she be? It’s literally Xueer’s job to do that kind of stuff—but Xueer does feel a little bad.

“Jiaqi?” Xueer says. When Jiaqi looks away from the window to meet Xueer’s eyes in the rearview mirror, Xueer clears her throat and continues, “I, uh, never actually got to ask you where it was you wanted to go.”

Jiaqi raises a brow at Xueer. “Do you drink?”

* * *

Jiaqi takes her whiskey neat while Xueer has hers on the rocks. They tip their glasses in salute.

Xueer places her glass back down on its coaster after taking a few small sips of her drink. She’s not opposed to whiskey the same way she’s not opposed to most alcoholic beverages, but she’s willing to admit that she has neither the palette nor refinement to really appreciate it either. She’s only drinking it now because she told Jiaqi she’d have whatever she was having.

Xueer looks around the bar. Apart from herself and Jiaqi, there are only ten other customers tonight, all of whom look like they just got out of work and decided to grab a drink before heading home. Xueer wouldn’t be too surprised if that were the case: it _is_ a weekday, after all, and everyone needs something to help them get by. That seems to be the reason why Jiaqi is here, anyway.

It took Xueer by surprise when Jiaqi said she wanted to stop by a bar—“Doesn’t matter which bar or where,” Jiaqi said—for a drink. She didn’t want to get drunk, that much was clear to see, and Jiaqi promised they wouldn’t stay for longer than an hour at most, which were decent enough reasons for Xueer to let Jiaqi finally have her way. They’ve got two other people posted outside and Mr. Gao and the rest of the boys ready to go, so in case something happens, they at least won’t be completely and utterly unprepared to respond to the threat and extract Jiaqi in the nick of time. 

As Xueer glances down at her watch to check the time, Jiaqi says, “Tell you a secret.”

Xueer turns her head to look at Jiaqi, watching as Jiaqi circles the rim of her glass with her fingers.

“Sometimes I wonder why Dad didn’t just hand everything over to Uncle instead,” Jiaqi confesses to Xueer. “It’s not like anyone would really question it if he did. I guess that’s the thing about it: it just makes so much sense for Uncle to take over. Sure, you could argue that he’s not getting any younger either, but he’s still as sharp as he used to be, if not even sharper. He’s still got it, basically, and if there’s anyone this organization needs right now, it’s someone like him. Not me. Compared to him, I’m… Honestly, sometimes I just don’t know what the fuck I’m doing or what I _have_ to do. Uncle… he… he just has it all figured out, you know, while I just…” She sighs, tired and frustrated, but also somewhat resigned.

Xueer doesn’t say anything at first, giving Jiaqi’s words enough time to sink in, then she lightly jokes, “Who ever _really_ has it all figured out anyway? I’m sure even Mr. Yang has some things he doesn’t know.”

Jiaqi smiles, says, “Well,” and takes a swig of her whiskey. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Jiaqi hums in response.

Xueer starts to second-guess herself, but she’s here now and Jiaqi’s allowing herself to be vulnerable with Xueer anyway, so she might as well just put this out there. She knows that if she doesn’t ask Jiaqi this now, she might never get the chance to again.

“Have you ever considered asking your dad to hand everything over to Mr. Yang instead?”

Jiaqi keeps her eyes locked on Xueer for a long moment, and it takes Xueer back to the day they first met and the unnerving intensity in the way Jiaqi looked at her, like she could cut right through all the lies and see Xueer for who she really is. She’s looking at Xueer the same way now and it still makes the air in Xueer’s lungs run thin, makes her skin prickle.

Finally, Jiaqi replies, “I’ve thought about it, yeah. I’ve thought about it a whole bunch of times, even, but whenever I do get the chance to talk to Dad about it…” She shrugs. “I just never do.”

They don’t say anything for a while. Jiaqi’s finished her whiskey already, but Xueer’s still got some way to go with hers, so she continues to drink it in small, slow sips. 

“Whatever it is you’ve got on your mind,” Jiaqi says suddenly, “you can ask me about it, you know.”

Xueer’s cheeks flush pink, and not because of the alcohol.

“You can be pretty transparent sometimes,” Jiaqi tells Xueer, an amused smile playing on her lips. “Well, go on. What is it you’re dying to ask me?”

For the second time tonight, Xueer thinks, _Might as well._ “Do you _want_ to take over?”

“If you’re asking that because I said I’ve never actually talked to Dad about handing the organization over to Uncle instead,” Jiaqi answers, signaling for the bartender to come over and refill her glass, “then all I can tell you is that I really, honest to god don’t know.”

The bartender pours whiskey into Jiaqi’s empty glass and she waits until he’s out of earshot to continue, “I’ve been wondering about that myself for some time now. I know that I _could_ just talk to Dad about it, tell him that maybe Uncle’s the far better choice for now and, well, even after that, but like I said, every time I’m presented with the chance to actually talk to him about it, I just never do. I can’t _get myself to,_ and I don’t know if it’s because there’s a part of me that actually _does_ want this, for some reason or another. You know, not because I feel like it’s my duty to take care of what my dad built, or because I feel a sense of responsibility over the people who’ve worked for and have been loyal to him for years, but because _I_ want this. But every time I just… I don’t know… sit down and really give it some thought, I always just come to the same conclusion: I don’t really want this. Never have. I mean, I _did_ consider the possibility of Dad handing everything over to me and I _did_ tell myself to just suck it up if it ever happened—which, yeah, it did, and I’m doing the best I can about it now, but deep down I know that this isn’t exactly what I want for myself.”

Xueer says, “And yet…”

“…and yet I find myself unable to really let it—let _all_ of this—go too,” Jiaqi finishes for Xueer. She picks up her glass and brings it to her lips . “That doesn’t make any sense, does it? I definitely don’t think it makes any sense. Here I am telling you that I know I don’t really want any of this, but the moment I do have the chance to let it all go, I just can’t and I end up holding onto it even tighter. I don’t want it, but I also just… don’t know.”

Xueer stares down into the liquid amber in her own glass. She skates her finger around the rim of the glass. She should finish her drink already, she thinks, before all of the ice melts and she might as well just be drinking _water_ and not expensive whiskey. Despite that, she can’t get herself to take even just one more sip of it. Jiaqi’s confessions have sobered up Xueer plenty, and she was never even drunk, let alone _buzzed,_ to begin with.

Xueer gets the feeling that they’ve reached a dead-end with this topic already, so she decides now might be the best time to ask Jiaqi something she’s been really curious about. She doesn’t know if Jiaqi _will_ answer her question, but she’s been pretty generous tonight, so she _might_ be willing to talk to Xueer about it. She looks around first to make sure the other customers aren’t eavesdropping on them (though she doubts any of them would even care enough to do that since they’re all busy drowning in their own misery), then asks Jiaqi, “What do you plan to do about the Jus?”

Interestingly, Jiaqi, who’d been so open with Xueer, plays coy now when she says, “That’s what everyone’s dying to know, isn’t it?” 

Xueer’s ears perk up at the sound of screeching tires outside. Jiaqi and Xueer lock eyes briefly, an understanding quickly forming between them, and then—

The deafening roar of gunfire, the sound of glass shattering, a chorus of surprised shrieks and screams: it’s an ambush on all sides.

Jiaqi and Xueer hoist themselves over the bar top in the nick of time. Xueer rushes to Jiaqi’s side and curls her body over Jiaqi’s, tucking Jiaqi’s head under her chin to shield her from all the shards of broken glass that fly around as the backbar is relentlessly pelted with bullets. The bottles lined along the shelves of the backbar shatter upon impact, raining alcohol down on Xueer and Jiaqi as they crouch behind the bar for protection. Xueer hears a loud thud and looks up to find the bartender lying cold and lifeless on the floor, a puddle of his own blood forming around him and mixing into all of the alcohol that’s spilled onto the floor. 

_Think,_ Xueer tells herself, her heart pounding in her chest and in her ears, and even louder than all the gunfire. 

She takes stock of their situation: all she’s armed with are a pistol and a knife, and the door to the backroom is only a few feet away from them. There’s no way they’re going to make it out of here through the front door, so their only option is to make their way to the backroom and make their way out into the back alley. There’s sure to be people waiting for them there too, if they haven’t broken in already, and she’s going to have to deal with them somehow. Doesn’t matter how. All that matters is that she gets Jiaqi the fuck out of here, and _now._

Xueer draws her pistol with one hand and presses the push-to-talk button on her radio earpiece’s microphone with her other hand. “Mr. Gao,” she says, raising her arm to cover her head as another bottle explodes and shattered glass rains down on her and Jiaqi. All she gets back is a cackle of static in her ears, so she repeats, “Mr. Gao, hey—“, but before she can get the rest of her words out of her mouth, the door to the backroom flies open—which is to say: it’s been kicked open so forcefully it’s almost completely ripped off of its hinges—and a man charges in, rifle at the ready.

 _Shit._ Xueer fires at him before he even gets the chance to aim his rifle at them: two quick shots— _BANG-BANG_ —into his chest and right between his eyebrows, then his body falls to the ground. She slots her pistol back into its holster, maneuvers around Jiaqi so that Jiaqi is safely behind her, then moves to retrieve the dead man’s rifle. She rolls the body over and quickly yanks the rifle from under it, and just in time too, because another man runs in. Today’s not his lucky day, though, because he doesn’t register fast enough that Xueer’s just killed his buddy and she’s got said buddy’s rifle in her hands now and pointed at him. She squeezes the trigger: another clean shot through the head, and another dead body on the floor. 

The groups of men who attacked from the front and left sides of the bar come rushing in through the broken windows, their footsteps thundering across the floor, and Xueer tells Jiaqi, “Stay down.” There’s a brief moment where Jiaqi gives her a look that says, _Yeah, NO SHIT,_ and if they weren’t literally in the middle of an ambush right now, Xueer might have found that funny. She might have even cracked a smile. Except they’re in the middle of an ambush, so of course Xueer pushes those thoughts aside for now and goes back to… well, making sure they don’t die tonight.

Xueer pops up from behind the bar and opens fire on the men approaching them. Three shots to the front, another two to the left. A bullet whizzes by her ear, and if the man just had better aim, that bullet would have gone right through her skull. It doesn’t, though, which gives Xueer the opportunity to aim her rifle at him this time. She squeezes the trigger, the shot rings in her ears and her shoulder jerks backward from the recoil, and the bullet rips through the muscle and bone of the man’s right right shoulder, knocking him off his feet and onto the ground. 

_Ha,_ Xueer thinks, allowing herself a moment to be a little smug. She ducks as they open fire more aggressively this time. Jiaqi covers her head with her arm as more glass rains down on them, and she asks Xueer, “What’s the plan? How’re we gonna get from here”—she jerks her chin towards the door to the backroom—“to there without getting pelted?”

Xueer’s gotta hand it to Jiaqi: for someone that’s never had to not only deal with but also be right at the heart of a situation like this one before, Jiaqi is holding up pretty well. Xueer knows Jiaqi is terrified, just as any normal human being would be, but it’s how she handles that fear that impresses Xueer. That lesson on fear has been taught to her in a number of ways by a number of people throughout her life, but the gist of it has always been the same: it’s not about the absence of fear, it’s about _overcoming_ fear. It’s about being able to do what you have to do even if you _are_ afraid. That, to Xueer, is an unshakeable truth. It’s _her_ truth, and she sees it in Jiaqi now. 

She suddenly hears Xiaotang’s voice in her head: _I don’t know what it is you see in her, but whatever it is, whatever it might be…_

Then Xueer is struck with a realization.

It isn’t just _now_ that she’s seen all of this in Jiaqi, but she _is_ only realizing now that maybe this is what she’s seen in her all along. There were those moments when she’d see so much of her own story, her own journey, reflected in Jiaqi’s struggles now, but she could never quite put a finger on… on that thing that was at the heart of it all, and why seeing so much of herself in Jiaqi, and of Jiaqi in herself, is just so confusing and unnerving and honestly _terrifying_ for her. But she’s starting to understand it now. She might not have a full grasp of it just yet, but she’s learning to understand it.

Xueer might not have been born into money and power the way Jiaqi was, and they might have walked different paths that just happened to converge at this point in their lives, but maybe, just maybe, they aren’t so different after all. Maybe they’ve got the same stuff in their bones. And maybe their journeys and the paths they’ve walked to get to this point aren’t so different either. 

While Xueer wasn’t born into money or power, Jiaqi was born with all the money and power anyone could want, but the catch is that she can’t ever afford to be selfish because she was born with the burden of duty and the legacy of her father. They were both dealt a bad hand, just in different ways, and more importantly, neither of them ever really wanted to be where they are now. Life just forced them down the paths they’re on now—the paths that, as fate would have it, met and merged to form just one path. The one they’re on now. The one that’s brought them together. Except they aren’t really walking side-by-side, at the same pace. No. Xueer’s still way ahead of Jiaqi, and all she’s really doing is looking over her shoulder, watching Jiaqi follow the trail she’s left in her wake. Xueer’s past the point of no return already. Jiaqi’s still just making her way there. 

Maybe that’s what’s making this— _all_ of this—so difficult for Xueer. She’s watching Jiaqi make the same decisions, the same _mistakes,_ she’s made. Watching her get closer and closer to the point of no return. She’s really just a push away from becoming the kind of person Mr. Yang and everyone else around her thinks she needs to be: cold, ruthless, everything that she isn’t. She might not want to be any of that, but Jiaqi’s already decided that she’ll do whatever she needs to do despite all the regret, disappointment, and _fear_ that she might be feeling. Because who else will? Her father has made it clear he wants her, not Mr. Yang and not anybody else, to take over. There’s no ‘no’ or ‘maybe’ here. She has no choice but to do whatever she needs to do, even if those things will make it difficult for her to even recognize herself when she looks in the mirror. Even if she slowly becomes everything she’s been so afraid of becoming. 

What truly terrifies Xueer about all of this is that, deep down, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to see that happen, especially not to someone like Jiaqi. She wouldn’t ever want to see that happen to anyone else either, but there’s just something especially sad about watching it happen to Jiaqi. Some might say that Xueer would be doing Jiaqi a favor, then, if she kills her, but… 

She doesn’t want to. Deep, deep down, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to.

That’s it. That’s it, really. Xueer doesn’t want to kill Jiaqi, not really, and not even for all that money she’s been promised. The more she grows to understand Jiaqi and the less she sees Jiaqi as just the price tag on her head, the more personal this job becomes to Xueer. She doesn’t want to be the one that snuffs out that light, and she doesn’t want to just sit back and watch it go out either. She doesn’t really know what she wants to do but she knows that when the time comes for her to finally do what she was sent here to do—what she _has_ to do—it won’t be easy for her. She might be able to push aside or work through this confusing and infuriating jumble of things she’s been feeling, but she won’t feel good about it. That much she knows now.

Maybe her views on overcoming doubt and fear, most of all, have been far too romantic. Too rose-tinted. 

Xueer doesn’t have time to process all of _that_ too, though, because she has to get Jiaqi and herself out of here in one piece. She really could not have picked a worse or more inappropriate time to become so self-aware. 

She looks around quickly and spots a cocktail shaker lying around. It’s not a grenade, and it would sure but convenient as hell if it _were_ one, but life doesn’t really work like that, does it? Well, it might not be a grenade but it’s still enough to pull a bluff that should distract their pursuers long enough to help them sneak their way to the backroom.

Xueer grabs the shaker, gets up from behind the bar, and makes a show of throwing it at the men shooting at them. She puts in as much force as she can behind her throw, and things go just as she’d hoped: startled, the men freeze on the spot when they see Xueer throw something their way. Before the shaker lands on the ground and before the men figure out that this was all just a bluff, Xueer slings the rifle across her shoulder and tugs Jiaqi along with her by her arm. They make it to the other side of the door, into the backroom, just as the men open fire on them again. 

They run for the door at the other end of the backroom, the one that leads out into the back alley. Xueer throws the door open just as their car arrives, the passenger seat window rolled down so Mr. Gao can call for them to get in. So they run, even harder this time, but before they reach the car, their backup car comes into view with another car close behind it. Xueer and Jiaqi watch as the two other cars crash into the one Mr. Gao is in, knocking it sideways into the wall. 

As far as Xueer can tell, Mr. Gao _should_ be okay—and she really hopes he’s okay—but she’s got another problem to deal with right now. There’s a scuffle going on between their pursuers and the remainder of Jiaqi’s security detail, the men from inside the bar have made their way out, guns blazing, and she has to make sure she gets Jiaqi to that car safely. God forbid anything bad happened to Mr. Gao but if that _were_ the case, Xueer’s going to have to drive them to safety herself—but she’s getting way ahead of herself. She needs to get Jiaqi to the car first, that’s her top priority right now.

They take cover behind a dumpster as the men who came from inside the bar start shooting at them. Xueer really must have pissed them off with the shaker-grenade bluff because they fire at her and Jiaqi even more aggressively and relentlessly now, making it almost impossible for Xueer to actually shoot back at them. She decides that she’ll have to take out the guy—or _guys,_ plural—with the automatic rifle(s) first and then deal with the rest, but she has to time this right, otherwise she might actually catch a bullet. She’s got body armor on underneath her shirt but there’s only so much it can protect her from.

Xueer waits, listening to the gunfire roar on, and then: _3, 2, 1…_ She leaps to her feet, props her elbows and the rifle on the lid of the dumpster, and begins to shoot back at them. She might have years of experience at this, but it’s honestly still pretty difficult to keep her cool when she’s got this many people with that much firepower shooting at her while she’s also shooting at them. She feels her heart pounding against her ribcage, and she feels all the adrenaline being pumped through her veins. She feels something electric, something white-hot, thrum under her skin. All of her senses are dialed up to a hundred.

She takes down four of them, including the two who were armed with the automatic rifles, and when she squeezes the trigger to take down another one, she hears a click instead of a bang. She squeezes it again, two, three times but it’s no use. Talk about _horrible_ timing for a malfunction. She’s still got her pistol, though. She turns the rifle inboard and down with her left hand and reaches for her pistol with her right hand, but an unintended effect of that is that she momentarily leaves herself open and vulnerable, which one of the men takes advantage of quickly.

Xueer feels it before she sees it. Just as she’s wrapped her fingers around the grip of the pistol, something just— The only way she can describe it is that it felt like something just _slammed_ into her chest, and she just barely stops herself from being knocked backward by the sheer force of it. All of the air has been knocked out of her lungs. Then everything begins to move in slow motion for her.

She doesn’t feel any pain at first, just this strange buzzing feeling that lasts for a few seconds, then finally, it begins to set in. She wasn’t hit square in the chest but a few inches off from her armpit, and she begins to feel a burning sensation there that intensifies with every millisecond that passes. It gets to the point where the burning becomes unbearable, almost like her skin or her body had just been set on fire, and that’s when it finally sinks in.

She’d just been shot. Not just shot _at,_ but _shot._ The bullet actually pierced through the body armor she’s wearing. It pierced right through the body armor, then through her flesh and muscle, and now there’s hot blood spilling out of the wound the bullet left in its wake, staining her crisp white button-down a deep, dark red. 

After the realization hits her, the world goes back to moving at a normal speed again for Xueer, everything comes flooding back to her, and she finally draws her pistol from its holster and shoots back the man that just shot her; he’s even still got his rifle aimed at her. He falls to the ground with a loud grunt. Xueer moves on to shoot down the last two men, gritting her teeth through the pain she feels on the right side of her body, in the area she’d been shot. It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker when all the adrenaline’s gone, but she’ll worry about that later.

Xueer checks one more time to make sure none of the men are still alive and once she’s confirmed they aren’t, she ducks behind the dumpster again, kneeling down by Jiaqi’s side. She gives Jiaqi a once-over and asks her, “You doing okay?”

Jiaqi rightfully gawks at Xueer like she’s crazy. 

“Why are you asking _me_ if _I’m_ okay?” Jiaqi says incredulously. Her voice rises an octave at the end, which is enough to let Xueer know that Jiaqi is freaking the fuck out on the inside. She eyes all of the blood that’s stained Xueer’s shirt, and it’s hard to see under this light, but Xueer’s sure Jiaqi’s gone pale from looking at the blood. “You…” Jiaqi starts, her voice tapering off at the end. “Are you…”

“I’ll be fine,” Xueer reassures Jiaqi, and maybe herself too. “Don’t worry about it.”

She’s been shot before, albeit with a less powerful firearm, and she survived. That’s why she’s here. She doesn’t know exactly how bad this injury is, but she’s fairly certain the bullet didn’t pass through bone or any important nerves or anything like that. She moves her right arm around a bit just to make sure she can still move it around at all, and so far, so good. It would have been a real problem if she’d been shot square in the shoulder. 

Jiaqi purses her lips. She looks like she wants to say more but she bites her tongue for now. She just nods when Xueer tells her, “Come on, let’s go. Stay close to me, okay?”

Xueer leaves the rifle behind and they make their way to Mr. Gao. The boys—or what’s left of them, anyway; Xueer’s heart sinks at the realization—are still putting up a good fight, hiding behind the opened doors of the bulletproof Land Rover to shield themselves. The car is busted here and dented there and full of bullet holes everywhere. It’s still holding up now but Xueer’s not keen on testing just how long the car will last before any real damage is done.

When they make it to the boys, Xueer taps one of them on the shoulder and says, “We need to get out of here _now,_ ” then she guides Jiaqi to the other car, the once beautiful and spotless Mercedes-Benz that now looks desperately in need of a trip to a repair shop. Xueer quickly inspects the damage: it’s not too bad, just some dents and bumps here and there, but it should still be able to run. It makes her think of Keyin, her friend and resident grease monkey, for a moment too. If here’s anyone who could patch this up, it’s Keyin. Xueer’s seen cars in far worse states in Keyin’s shop, and she’s seen Keyin work miracles on them too.

Xueer holds the door open for Jiaqi and Jiaqi practically throws herself into the backseat. Xueer throws open the passenger seat door and pops her head in to check in on Mr. Gao. Jiaqi seems to have beaten her to that, though, because Xueer finds her shaking Mr. Gao by his shoulders to bring him back to consciousness. Xueer feels panic swell in her chest but after Jiaqi checks for a pulse, she tells Xueer, “He’s alive, but I think he might have hit his head real hard,” she breathes a sigh of relief. She moves to the driver’s side and carries him out of the driver’s seat and into the backseat, where Jiaqi makes space for him. 

Xueer ignores the aching and burning that comes with every strenuous movement she makes, slips into the driver’s seat, slams her foot down on the gas, and sends the car lurching forward. The battered Land Rover follows close behind them. 

Xueer’s eyes dart back and forth between the road and the rearview mirror as she drives at a breakneck speed. That earns her a lot of angry honks from the other cars on the road, but she pays them no attention. She continues to check the rearview mirror to make sure they haven’t been followed and only allows herself to breathe when a few minutes pass and there’s still no sign of the last of the men who ambushed them earlier. 

* * *

“That should do,” the doctor grumbles to Xueer. She supposes he’s relieved this is done with, though it’s a little hard to tell because he looks as annoyed as he did when she and Jiaqi came knocking on his door. She can’t really blame him for that, though. If she had to spend more than a decade tending to every single one of the Xus’ men who walked into her office after getting into a tussle, she'd be pretty annoyed too. He fills two glasses with whiskey ( _Not again,_ Xueer thinks) and hands one of them to Xueer. “You’re all the same, you know that? Your kind walk into my office to get fixed up and then walk out just to throw yourselves at something more dangerous than the last thing that nearly got you killed, all ‘cause you think you’ve got nine lives or something.”

“Nine lives, huh?” Xueer tips her glass at the doctor and downs the whiskey in one go. For some reason, she likes how it tastes a lot better now. Maybe life or death situations just have a way of making everything taste better. She places the glass back down on the doctor’s work table and gets up to put her shirt back on. 

To say Xueer is a mess right now would be quite the understatement. Her bangs are matted on her forehead, her skin’s slick with her sweat and blood, it aches like hell where she’d been shot, and her only shirt looks like because of all the blood on it and because of the hole the bullet ripped through it. That said, she still has no choice but to shrug it back on, wincing when she raises her arm to slip it into the right sleeve of her shirt.

She lightly touches the bandage the doctor put over her gunshot wound after cleaning it up. Fortunately, she’s only sustained a flesh wound. Yeah, it’s still fucking painful, but it’s still significantly better than losing motor function in her right arm entirely or, you know, _dying._ This is also a lot easier to manage than any of the other far more horrible alternatives. It’s a little odd to feel glad she’s experienced this already before so she already knows how to go about caring for her wound, but that’s how she feels right now anyway. It just sucks that she won’t be able to wear tank tops, which make up at least eight-five percent of her wardrobe, for a while because of this.

Xueer sits back down after she finishes buttoning up her shirt, groaning as she does so. The doctor huffs disapprovingly. Xueer expects him to go on a rant about how “her kind” are a pain in the ass and how he would just leave them to die if he had a choice or something, but after a moment of thoughtful silence, the doctor talks about something else instead: “She really takes after her parents. I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised about that. She _is_ their child, after all, but…” 

The doctor shakes his head. “That look on her face reminded me a lot of her father when he was younger… all those years ago. He’d come knocking on my door with another one of his buddies, and he’d always have that look on his face, the same one the kid had on hers tonight. Always made me wonder how someone like that—someone with a heart like that—ended up becoming the most powerful man in Shanghai.”

Xueer’s eyes automatically go to the room Jiaqi’s in right now, where she’s busy talking to someone on the phone. Jiaqi’s voice is muffled behind the close door but Xueer assumes she must have called the others to check in on them and discuss the events that transpired tonight. 

If Xueer’s suspicions are correct, the others—Dai Meng, Sun Rui, and even Mr. Yang—must have also been ambushed on their way home. The main reason Xueer thinks this is that the ambush tonight doesn’t feel like it was part of the deal between the Jus and Mr. Yang. If it _were,_ she’s fairly certain that Mr. Yang would have told her about it beforehand. She’s also fairly certain that he would have told the Jus to take it easy on Jiaqi and Xueer. Would have advised them to just do enough to ruffle Jiaqi’s feathers but not enough to actually kill her… which the men tonight _definitely_ sought out to do. This could have easily just been a ploy to speed things up and give Jiaqi reason to retaliate against or negotiate with the Jus, but everything about it just feels so… off. That’s really the only way Xueer can describe it. It just feels so fucking off, and there might not be a whole lot of logic behind gut feel, but her gut feel’s never been wrong about these kinds of things before either. 

Until she actually talks to Mr. Yang about what happened tonight though, all of this is just speculation, and speculation can easily turn into panic and paranoia, neither of which she wants or needs right now. She decides to pull herself away from that train of thought and hop onto a different one. She asks the doctor, “You’ve met Jiaqi’s mom?”

“She was his high school sweetheart,” the doctor replies, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. “S’what he told me, anyway. Met her a few times. Funny thing is, I always just assumed he would end up with her. You know, marry her and all that.”

“But he didn’t.”

The doctor nods, humming low. “Despite what I said about him, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as ambitious as Jiaqi’s father. He’s the kind of guy who sets his sights on something and will stop at nothing to get what he wants or get to where he wants to be. And I guess at the end of the day, that’s what mattered the most to him. He married that other woman because of her money—oh, don’t give me that look, kid; you’re old enough to know that’s just how life is sometimes. Besides, I’m pretty sure you know all this already. Anyhow, that’s why he didn’t end up marrying Jiaqi’s mom, but…”

“He went back to her in the end anyway, one way or another?” 

The doctor scoffs and something like a smile flickers over his face. “Yeah, you could say that,” he replies, then he sighs to himself, “She really _is_ their kid.”

Xueer decides the doctor isn’t so unpleasant to talk to or be with after all.

Jiaqi emerges from the room, her phone still in her hand, and she looks back and forth between the doctor and Xueer. Even though it’s obvious she’s curious about whatever it is they were talking while she was busy, she doesn’t ask them about it. Her gaze lingers on Xueer, and it’s also obvious that she’s still worried about her and wants to ask if she’s okay, but she doesn’t say anything about that either. It almost seems like Jiaqi can’t trust herself to speak right now.

The doctor looks at Jiaqi, then at Xueer, then at Jiaqi again. He huffs. 

On their way out, the doctor says to Xueer, “I don’t think I really need to tell you what to do since you look like you’ve got plenty of experience with this kind of shit already, but just don’t do anything too stupid that’ll fuck up the wound while it’s still fresh. The last thing I want is for you to come running back here expecting me to babysit you. That’s all the lot of you ever do.”

“Real sweet of you, doc,” Xueer replies sarcastically, and even though the doctor tries to look annoyed about it, Xueer can tell that he actually _isn’t_ annoyed at all. He might even actually like her. 

Jiaqi bows her head and says, “Thank you again, Uncle, and I’m really sorry for the inconvenience we’ve caused you. I would have called ahead, but…”

Xueer’s amazed to see the doctor’s steely, perpetually irritated eyes actually soften when he says, “It was an emergency, yeah, I know.” He sighs and goes back to being a grumpy old man. “Go on. Get your asses back home. It’s not safe for you to be out in the open after all the shit that’s just happened tonight.”

Jiaqi bows her head again, and Xueer follows suit. 

They’re escorted home by a group of their men. Xueer called for backup on their way to the doctor’s office-slash-residence and they met up there. They split the backup to two groups and this group was assigned to guard Jiaqi and Xueer while the other was tasked with bringing Mr. Gao home. 

Jiaqi requested that they drop off Xueer first given that she was the one that just got shot and all that, and even though Xueer tried convincing Jiaqi that she was fine (she’s really not) and that it’s _her_ that needs protecting, the look Jiaqi gave her was enough to let her know that she’s already made up her mind and nothing Xueer says will sway her. So Xueer just lets her have her way, because that’s really all she’s been doing ever since this entire fiasco started, and because she’s far too tired to put up a fight. Besides, it’s not like Jiaqi will be going home all by herself. She’s got these guys to take her back to her apartment, and they’re honestly in far better shape than Xueer right now to protect Jiaqi should shit hit the fan again. 

Xueer’s not surprised to find more of the Xus’ waiting for them outside of her apartment, but the security guard is rightfully wary of them. He goes out of the building to meet Xueer and probably ask her if she knows these guys, but his eyes almost fall right out of their sockets when he sees all the blood on her shirt. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but he can’t get the words out. Feeling bad, Xueer tells him, “I work with these guys,” and then jerks her thumb towards the general direction of all the men on standby outside her apartment building. She clears her throat. “Don’t, uh… don’t mind them.”

The security guard blinks, still shell-shocked, and then finally takes notice of Jiaqi.

“This is my boss,” Xueer says, gesturing to Jiaqi, who bows her head and greets, “It’s nice to meet you.”

The security guard manages a weak and wobbly smile at Jiaqi before he turns his attention back to Xueer. He stares at the blood on her shirt and starts, “Are you…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Xueer tells him, forcing a smile on her face. She’s aware of how she’s trying way too hard to come off as nonchalant about something that would (obviously, naturally) make anyone worry, and not so much _about her_ but about her being connected to and working for a criminal organization. She clears her throat again. “I’ll, um…”

“Oh,” the security guard says, promptly stepping aside to give them way. He eyes all the blood on Xueer again then says, “Have a good evening, Ms. Kong.”

Two of their men stand guard outside Xueer’s apartment unit while Jiaqi follows Xueer inside. Jiaqi looks around curiously, which somehow makes Xueer self-conscious about how barebones her flat still is even after having lived here for a while. She also wonders what Jiaqi might have expected the place to look like. Maybe this is exactly what she expected, or maybe she expected the place to be a little cozier. Xueer would ask her about it if it weren’t the least important thing she should be thinking about right now. It’s also just kind of weird to ask someone that. Xueer thinks it’s weird, anyway.

Remembering that she has to be a good host to her guest who also happens to be her boss, Xueer says, “I have, uh…” She walks to the kitchen and rummages through the fridge. The only thing she can offer to Jiaqi is melon-flavored milk, which just makes her feel even more self-conscious. She knows Jiaqi won’t judge her for it, and she might even like the stuff too, but Xueer’s not sure what kind of impression this’ll leave on Jiaqi. 

Xueer clears her throat and continues, “I have some melon-flavored milk, if you’d like some.”

Jiaqi looks around one more time then replies, “Yeah, sure.” She curiously eyes the bottle Xueer hands her then twists the cap off. Xueer watches her chug down half the bottle’s contents, equal parts amused and concerned. With a smack of her lips, Jiaqi remarks, “Not bad.”

“Yeah,” Xueer says. “Helps me sleep too.”

“It does?”

Xueer shrugs. The movement is small enough that it doesn’t send her hissing in pain. “Well, ‘helps me sleep’ might be a little inaccurate,” she explains, “but I _have_ been drinking a lot of it these past few days because of my… uh… sleeping problems.” 

Jiaqi smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’ve been having those too, huh?”

Xueer shrugs again. “It is what it is.”

They stand across each other, with Jiaqi leaning back against the kitchen island and Xueer leaning back against the countertop. They don’t say anything to each other for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. 

Jiaqi finishes her drink first. She moves around Xueer to toss the empty bottle into the trashcan but instead of taking her place back against the kitchen island or telling Xueer she had to leave, she stops right in front of Xueer. Xueer says nothing and just watches as Jiaqi reaches out a hand and softly places it over the spot where Xueer’s bullet wound is. Softly, she says, “Xueer, I…”

“Hey, there’s nothing to apologize for,” Xueer tells Jiaqi. She tries to lighten up the mood a little by saying, “I’ve got nine lives, you know. Doc said so, so it must be true.”

The joke doesn’t have its intended effect because Jiaqi purses her lips then grimly says, “Even those will run out eventually.”

Xueer watches as all of Jiaqi’s weariness comes crashing over her violently like waves against the shore. Jiaqi’s body as she comes slumping forward, into Xueer, and then she’s got her forehead pressed to Xueer’s shoulder, her face hidden behind the silky curtain of her hair, and she doesn’t pull her hand away from where Xueer got shot. 

And Xueer… she’s unsure of what to do, how to react. Her instincts tell her to place her hand on the small of Jiaqi’s back again, just like she did before, but she holds back this time. She already let herself before, so she can’t let that happen again… not even when it almost _hurts_ her not to touch Jiaqi again. 

“He died because of me,” Jiaqi rasps out. “And Uncle, Dai Meng, Sun Rui—they could have died tonight too. They were ambushed too and they could have died because of me. _You_ could have died because of me. I watched you get shot tonight and you could have—“

“I know,” Xueer whispers back around the tight and uncomfortable lump in her throat. Her own heart feels like it just sunk to the bottom of the ocean. “I know.”

As the leader of this organization, as the _queen_ of this kingdom, Jiaqi should be prepared to have people die for her. It’s uncomfortable and perhaps even cruel, but that’s just the truth of it. Whether they choose to die for her or just end up as collateral damage like the man tonight did, this is something Jiaqi should expect and get used to. She might not want to think of them that way, but the people that serve under her are all expendable. _They_ know that. _They_ know that they will always be at the front, right in the line of fire, to protect Jiaqi. _They_ know that they will always be the ones that will be sacrificed. All of them are expendable, even Xueer. 

In a harsh act of kindness, Xueer tells Jiaqi, “Many more people will get hurt for you, and many people will die for you. I’m no exception to that. And I know I might be stepping out of line by talking to you like this, but I don’t want to pretend everything is fine, even if it’ll make you feel… just not _terrible,_ even for a bit. I can’t lie to you. I can’t tell you anything else but the truth, and this is the truth: whether you like it or not, this is the world you live in now, and even if you don’t want them to, more people will die for you. _Because_ of you. That’s the price you have to pay for… for all of this. For what you have, and for what you want to keep. And I… I know it’s painful. I know it can be, and it’s uncomfortable, but you have to be able to bear the weight of that burden. It’s the only way to survive in a world like this.”

Jiaqi lifts her head from Xueer’s shoulder to gaze intently at Xueer. There’s a moment when Xueer thinks she might have actually gone too far, because there’s this sudden sharpness and _fury_ in Jiaqi’s eyes, but the moment passes almost as quickly as it came.

“Idiot,” Jiaqi says, which almost knocks Xueer out. She sounds angry at first, but just like her eyes, the tone of her voice softens when she tells Xueer, “I don’t want you to die.” Before Xueer can even get a word in, Jiaqi says, firm and furious again, “Don’t you _dare_ die on me, Kong Xueer. Don’t even fucking think about it.”

Xueer huffs a laugh. “Nine lives, remember?”

“Nine, a hundred, a million lives: I don’t care how many of those you have,” Jiaqi says, “just don’t… just don’t go around throwing away your life— _whichever_ life it is—even for me. I don’t want you to die.” She moves her hand from where it’s been all this time, right over Xueer’s injury, to touch Xueer’s jaw. She manages a small smile. “That’s an order, by the way.”

“Yes, Ms. Xu,” Xueer replies, a smile tugging at the corners of her own mouth.

Xueer suddenly becomes aware of how little space there is between Jiaqi and herself. Jiaqi’s still got her hand on Xueer’s jaw too. Her skin starts to feel too hot and too tight, and she’s a hundred percent sure it’s not because of her wound. She feels like she’s just been set on fire, or like she’s just been shot again because whatever she’s feeling now is too scarily similar to what she felt when the bullet ripped a hole through her. 

Her eyes drop to Jiaqi’s lips and she feels fire run down her spine. Jiaqi’s just the right height and in just the right position now to tip Xueer’s head up and lean in, if she wanted. She could do all of that and—and— It could be just like in the movies—

But Jiaqi doesn’t actually do… you know. _That._

She does something far, _far_ worse.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes:
> 
>   1. [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Pf8BkFLBRw&t=23s) is the scene from _The Godfather_ that Jiaqi was referring to. I did say in the first chapter that this movie was a big source of inspiration for this fic, so it only makes sense that it gets referenced *in* the story at least once, lol.
>   2. That scene at the end, where Jiaqi and Xueer are at the doctor’s office, is a nod to Episode 25 of _Cowboy Bebop_. Honestly, this entire chapter was very heavily influenced by _Cowboy Bebop_ because I rewatched it twice while I was writing this, so naturally it was all I had on my brain. The bar, the whiskey, shootouts—this entire chapter is a love letter to _Cowboy Bebop,_ in a way.
>   3. There’s a QCYN2-related joke here that I’ve long wanted to make/include in this fic, and I finally got to do that in this chapter. If you know, you know.
> 

> 
> [YouTuber voice] Don’t forget to hit the kudos button if you liked this ~~video~~ chapter! All comments are welcome and greatly appreciated, and they keep me going whenever I find myself in a rut and all that.
> 
> Thank you for your continued support, and see you all in the next chapter. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I will only kill if I have to,” Xueer says slowly and deliberately, her heart now roaring in her ears. There’s a voice inside her head that tells her to stop now, that what she’s about to do is stupid, but she can’t hear it over the beating of her heart. 
> 
> In the end, all Xueer is, has ever been, and ever will be is a loaded gun, always waiting for something to destroy—and she’s in Jiaqi’s hands now. All that’s left for Jiaqi to do is to squeeze the trigger. 
> 
> “And I will only kill if you ask me to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: happy new year! I'll be honest here and say that I really, really wanted to get this chapter out before the end of 2020, but work was really hectic and I wasn't in a good place emotionally or mentally for some time too, so I just didn't have the energy or motivation to write. Luckily I've felt... re-energized? Thanks to all the rest I got over the holidays and because I kicked off this year watching some awesome movies that gave me enough inspiration to write like a madman in the days leading up to this publication of this chapter.
> 
> So, yeah. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter—all 42,000+++ words of it.
> 
> Lets' go~

Xueer stares up at the ceiling. She wonders if she stares at it long enough, it’ll give her a solution to all of her problems, answers to all of her questions, and maybe tell her how she ended up where she is now, with Jiaqi sleeping beside her. So she stares at it. And stares, and stares, and stares. Ten, twenty minutes of her just silently and desperately staring up at the ceiling of her room pass, but none of the things she’d hoped would happen actually happen. Of course. She’s an idiot for thinking the fucking _ceiling_ is going to solve all of her problems for her or figure out her life for her anyway.

Xueer turns her head to look at Jiaqi, who sleeps with her back to Xueer, then she stares back up at the ceiling, sighs, and finally gets out of bed.

Xueer spits into the sink, rinses her brush, puts it away, then stares into the mirror long and hard. She’d just cleaned her wound and changed the dressing, which she’s checking on now to make sure she didn’t fuck that up somehow. She doubts she did, but hey, better safe than sorry. 

While she doesn’t find it particularly difficult to tend to the wound all by herself, it _is_ still incredibly tedious work. She had to take a sponge bath this morning because the wound is still too fresh for her to take a shower, and she’ll have to stick to sponge baths for a few more days unless she wants the wound to reopen and make her life even more difficult than it already is. She’ll just have to get creative about how she’s going to shampoo her hair without getting the wound wet until then. 

The process of changing the dressing is obviously the most tedious part of it all. She’s never been squeamish about these kinds of things, but with how fresh the wound still is, she has to be really, _really_ careful when she goes about cleaning and drying the wound and then replacing the dressing… and sometimes Xueer’s really just not the most careful person in the world. The first time she got shot, she at least had Shuxin and her (surprisingly) steady hands to help tend to the wound—and she didn’t even need to ask Shuxin for help: “There’s just something about you that just… _compels_ me to take care of you,” Shuxin said, then she proceeded to rip off the old dressing, “you know what I mean? —Hey, quit squirming around so much, you big baby!”—but now all she’s got is herself and the mirror in her bathroom. Xueer’s not going to _whine_ about not having someone else tending to the wound for her because she’s a grown ass woman, thank you very much, but she’s not afraid to admit that life _is_ a little bit more convenient when there’s someone else there to help her out. 

After disposing of the old dressing, Xueer starts getting dressed. She slips into a pair of gym shorts then very, _very_ slowly puts on a sports bra and an oversized t-shirt. She’d honestly prefer to not be wearing a bra _at all_ right now given the ridiculously inconvenient location of her wound, but she’d rather just wear one now than rush to put one on later when they inevitably have to leave for an emergency meeting with Mr. Yang and the others. It’s still very early in the morning, Jiaqi’s still asleep, and Xueer’s sure everyone else is also trying to catch up on some sleep after a very stressful evening, so there’s no way for Xueer to know what time exactly they’ll be leaving. If they have to leave, like, _right now immediately,_ she’ll have a hard time getting dressed fast with her wound stinging, burning, and aching the way it’s stinging, burning, and aching right now. Point is, it’s better for her to prepare now than to rush and maybe even hurt herself in the process later.

Xueer walks back to her room to retrieve her phone from the bedside drawer and to check in on Jiaqi, who’s unsurprisingly still asleep, then makes her way to the kitchen. 

She and Jiaqi finished the last two bottles of melon-flavored milk last night so all Xueer’s left with is… nothing, essentially. She’s not hungry, at least not yet, but she does feel like she needs to put _something_ in her body. She settles for a cold glass of water and makes herself comfortable at the dining table.

A wall of notifications greets Xueer when she finally checks her phone. A large chunk of those notifications are missed calls from Shuxin and Xiaotang, who she’s surprised are even awake at this time. Well, word gets around fast in the dark underbelly of China, so they must have already heard about what happened last night. Xueer would have told them about it herself if she didn’t pass out the moment she crawled into bed, too exhausted to even feel awkward about the fact Jiaqi was curled up on the very same bed and right beside her.

Xueer’s wide awake (well, okay, not _really_ ) now though, so she finds herself thinking about the events that led up to that. Or, well… the six words that led up to that. 

_Can I stay with you tonight?_

The only way Xueer can describe the way she felt after hearing that is that it felt like she just got right-hooked so hard that she ended up with a concussion. _Yeah._ But after everything that just happened, what was Xueer supposed to do? Tell Jiaqi to leave? Even without all of the ambush nonsense, just the way Jiaqi was looking at Xueer made it impossible for her to say no. She never stood a chance. 

If there’s one benefit to being bone-deep exhausted, it’s that it knocked her out cold before she could start thinking about the fact that Jiaqi’s sleeping right beside her and that she actually thought about— about— _that_ when Jiaqi was so dizzyingly close to her. She was practically pressed up against Xueer. Practically had Xueer backed against the countertop. And she could have— they could have— Maybe _Xueer_ should have just leaned in first and—

Xueer slams her glass down on the table a little too hard. For a moment, though, she considers pouring the remainder of the water on herself because her body’s started to burn white-hot again at the thought of _that._ Yeah, this is why she’s glad she was just too tired to put together a coherent thought last night. She wouldn’t have gotten a wink of sleep otherwise.

It’s ridiculous that she even had the time to be thinking about that kind of nonsense after they just go ambushed, after she just got fucking _shot,_ and after such a loaded, intimate, and personal exchange. 

Speaking of that loaded, intimate, and personal exchange: what was she thinking when she started spewing that shit about not wanting to lie to Jiaqi? What made her think she had the _right_ to say that when that’s exactly what she’s been doing this entire time? She knows that all of those realizations she had in the middle of the ambush were probably what made her run her mouth like that, as well as all of the other things that have been messing with her head, but—it’s just not fair to Jiaqi. 

It’s unfair for her to be saying those things to Jiaqi. It’s unfair of her to be making all these promises to Jiaqi knowing she’ll only let her down in the end. It’s unfair that Jiaqi trusts her enough to be so vulnerable and so honest with her because Xueer’s not the person Jiaqi thinks she is, and she can’t ever really be the person Jiaqi needs her to be either. She’s no knight in shining armor, no shoulder to lean on, and she can never truly be a friend to Jiaqi either. She can keep pretending to be everything Jiaqi wants and needs her to be, but she will never really _be_ any of those things. 

No amount of pretending will ever change the fact that at the end of the day, Xueer is and always will be the person who was hired to kill Jiaqi. And no matter how much Xueer might not want to actually do that, she’ll have no choice but to fulfill her end of the contract anyway because she knows that if she doesn’t, Mr. Yang won’t let her walk away unscathed. While her concerns are not unfounded, there’s only just a fifty percent chance that Mr. Yang will _actually_ have her killed once the contract’s up. If Xueer _doesn’t_ kill Jiaqi, however, her death is guaranteed, one hundred percent. She _will_ die; there’s no ‘if’ or ‘maybe’ here because _she_ will _die._ Mr. Yang is not the kind of man who, out of the kindness of his heart (or whatever’s left of it), will let a liability like Xueer run around carefree if she chooses not to kill Jiaqi in the end. He’s not the kind of man who’d leave loose ends loose. 

And even if she decides not to kill Jiaqi in the end and kills Mr. Yang instead, there’s still a possibility that he’d be a few steps ahead of her and that he’d find a way to get to Jiaqi first, squashing any trust Jiaqi might have had for her and turning Jiaqi against her. _If_ that happens, even if Xueer is successful in killing Mr. Yang, if Mr. Yang twists the story and makes Xueer the villain of it instead, she knows Jiaqi won’t hesitate to send her men after Xueer and have her pay for what she did. Mr. Yang is still family to Jiaqi and if there’s anything Xueer’s learned about Jiaqi, it’s that she’s fiercely loyal and protective of those she cares about and loves and that she’d do anything for them. She might not want to be the person that puts an end to Xueer’s life, especially after everything she said about not wanting to lose Xueer too, but there’s no way Jiaqi would ever put Xueer over her own family if this scenario were to ever actually play out. 

Honestly, Xueer would take Mr. Yang killing her over _Jiaqi_ killing her. Not only would the latter hurt Xueer more, but just knowing Jiaqi would feel so terrible and torn about having Xueer killed would also only make Xueer feel more miserable (you know, before _dying_ and all that). Not that she needs to wait for that to happen to start feeling miserable, because she already feels miserable now. Miserable and confused and weary and guilty. God, she feels so fucking guilty. Guilty because of everything going on with Jiaqi, and guilty because, looking back on it now, if Xueer just knew how to keep all of these things she’s thinking and feeling in check, if she had any control at all over those things, then Jiaqi never would have been in harm’s way, Mr. Gao wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and two of her men wouldn’t have died. If Xueer didn’t let them take that detour, then none of this would have happened, or at least the damages could have been minimized.

There’s no going back now, though. All Xueer can do now is face the consequences of her actions and decisions. That’s all Xueer’s been doing ever since she started working as a gun for hire anyway. This is nothing new. Doesn’t make things any easier for her, though. Never does.

Xueer looks up just as Jiaqi enters the kitchen.

“Hey,” Jiaqi greets, rubbing her gummy eyes. 

Xueer feels her heart twist itself into a knot at the sight of Jiaqi’s almost artfully messy bedhead and one of her own shirts, the graphic printed on the front of it chipping and fading, loosely and lopsidedly draped around Jiaqi’s frame. When Jiaqi walks towards her, she catches a glimpse of the shorts she’d leant to Jiaqi for the night—and no, she is _not_ at all ogling or even just thinking about Jiaqi’s long legs or her thighs or anything ridiculous like that. Weakly, Xueer says back, “Hey.”

Jiaqi sits across Xueer at the dining table, yawns, and says, “You’re up really early.”

“I’m just used to waking up at this time, that’s all,” Xueer replies. At least _that’s_ not a lie. She gives Jiaqi a once-over and asks, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, yeah.” Jiaqi’s eyes trail down from Xueer’s face to where that bullet left its mark on Xueer’s body.

“It’s not so bad,” Xueer tells Jiaqi before she can put her thoughts into words. Instinctively, she reaches up and lightly places her hand over the place she’d been shot, feeling the dressing through the fabric of her shirt. “It hurts sometimes when I move my arm around, but other than that it’s… manageable.”

“Manageable,” Jiaqi echoes, raising a brow. “It didn’t look so _manageable_ to me last night.”

Oh. Right. Jiaqi’s actually seen the wound in all of its nasty, bloody glory, which means she’s also technically seen Xueer with her shirt off. Xueer didn’t have time to think about the latter because she just, you know, _got fucking shot_ , was bleeding like crazy, and was in a whole lot of pain. With all of _that_ going on, it would have been silly for her to be self-conscious or shy about practically ripping her shirt off in front of Jiaqi as soon they stepped into the doctor’s office. Besides, the sight of all that blood and a fresh, gaping wound is hardly titillating anyway, and Jiaqi certainly made no attempt to hide how horrified she was when she finally saw the full extent of Xueer’s injury.

“What I mean is that, uh…” Xueer feels heat creep up her neck for some reason, as if there’s anything to be embarrassed here. “The bullet might have penetrated the vest I was wearing under my shirt, but that’s still better than if I got shot and I wasn’t wearing a vest at all.”

Jiaqi thinks about that for a moment, says, “I suppose that makes sense,” then she smiles when she adds, “But then again, what would I know? It’s not like I’ve ever been shot before.”

Xueer ends up smiling too despite how dark the joke is. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s not a whole lot of fun.”

They sit together in silence for a while, then Jiaqi says, “You asked me what I planned to do about the Jus.” She pauses for a long moment, perhaps wondering whether or not she should be telling Xueer about any of this, or maybe she’s just not sure how to put into words the things she wants to say. Whatever it might be, Xueer can only wait. 

After a few more seconds of heavy and thoughtful silence, and with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, Jiaqi tells Xueer, “I know I might not look like it, but I’m pissed. I’m _really_ fucking pissed. I’m pissed at the Jus for coming after my people, and I’m pissed at them for coming after my family… but I’m especially pissed at myself because I know that I have to do something about this, to put an _end_ to this—but… I don’t know how. I don’t know what I _can_ do that won’t make this blow up into a full-on war, or at least without more people dying. And it’s stupid, really, for me to still want to find a way around that when I _know_ there’s no way around it. I _know_ that the Jus are coming after me and my dad, and that they plan to get rid of us so they can get rid of the organization too—for good. For the Jus to actually break the truce… All I’m saying is that they wouldn’t do something like that if they had no plan to go all the way, you know what I mean? They’re not the kind of people who would, after years of peace and ceasefire, decide to just throw all that out the window and then change their minds about it just like that. They _can’t_ do that because they know that _we’re_ going to retaliate one way or another, and it’ll all just end the same way, with our families at war again, and who knows how much worse it’ll be this time around?

“I know all this,” Jiaqi continues, tucking her chin over her knees, “but I can’t figure out what I can or should do to put an end to this. The Jus want war, that’s clear as day to me now, and I don’t think anything I say to them or promise them will matter because they won’t stop until I’m dead, until Dad’s dead, and until they’ve gotten rid of everyone else who could possibly stand in their way. That’s not to say that I won’t _try_ to bring an end to this as peacefully as possible, but…” She sounds a little disappointed in herself when she says, “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I’ve consulted Dad and Uncle about this to decide what we need to do.”

Gently, Xueer tells Jiaqi, “There’s no shame in consulting others,” but in her head she adds, _I don’t know about consulting Mr. Yang about, well, anything concerning your life, though. 0/10, would not recommend._

“I know,” Jiaqi sighs, “but… I just wish I didn’t have to rely on them so much. I don’t mean that in a bad way or anything. I value their advice, of course I do, but I wish I could just… just not second-guess myself or the decisions I make. I wish I could just figure things out the way they do and call the shots the way they do.”

“You don’t have to be them,” Xueer says after allowing herself a few seconds to process what Jiaqi just told her, and a few more seconds to find the words to say what she wants to say to Jiaqi. Honestly, it sounded a lot more… ‘profound’ might be a stretch, but it sounded a lot less cheesy and a lot less cliché in her head. Oh well. “And, uh… I don’t wanna sound too… presumptuous or anything, but I don’t think your dad wants you to just be a, you know, carbon copy of him or anything like that. You’re your own person at the end of the day, and it’s just natural that there’ll be things you do or see differently—and that’s not a bad thing. It just means you’ve got something new to bring to the table.”

Jiaqi seems taken aback by Xueer’s little spiel, but there’s an appreciative twinkle in her eyes too. Smiling, she jokes, “Ever considered getting into motivational speaking?”

“A bunch of times, yeah,” Xueer jokes back. 

Just like that, they’re back to sitting together in silence again.

It gives Xueer enough time to go over everything Jiaqi said again. She feels an overwhelming sense of guilt wash over her again. Jiaqi technically might not be wrong about any of the things she said about the Jus, but she doesn’t know how this situation is so much more complicated than she thinks it is either. _Xueer_ knows that, of course, because she’s just another one of the cogs in Mr. Yang’s doomsday machine, and she feels horrible about it. 

She wishes she could just tell Jiaqi about everything but… then what? Sure, she might feel bad for Jiaqi and she might be feeling all these other weird and confusing feelings too, but at the end of the day, Jiaqi is still her mark and the only way she’s going to walk out of this job and out of this organization alive is if she kills Jiaqi. Besides, it’s not like her telling Jiaqi about everything will miraculously stop Mr. Yang’s or the Jus’ plans. It’s like Jiaqi said: they wouldn’t be doing these kinds of things if they didn’t plan to go all the way, and no matter what else is said and done, it’ll all still end the same way, with a lot of blood shed and lives lost. It’s just a question of _whose_ lives will be lost.

Xueer knows all of this and yet… and yet she can’t help but wonder… What would Jiaqi do if Xueer _did_ tell her about everything and about Mr. Yang? She’s not expecting to get a pat on the back or a big bonus for telling Jiaqi about how she was actually sent here to _kill_ her, not guard her, but she’s curious about how Jiaqi would deal with Mr. Yang after he’s been exposed for committing high treason, basically. There’s no walking away scot-free in a world like this, after all, and it would look bad on Jiaqi as the leader of the organization if she didn’t do anything substantial about it. The only acceptable punishment for a crime like that is death, but would Jiaqi be able to live with the guilt and the consequences of that? Would she be able to carry that weight? 

Of course, Xueer wonders how Jiaqi would deal with _her_ too. Would she let _Xueer_ walk away, completely free of consequence or punishment, just for ratting out on Mr. Yang? She knows that Jiaqi harbors some genuine affection for her, if last night was any indication of that, but somehow Xueer is still inclined to think that Jiaqi won’t go easy on her if this scenario ever actually happened, but probably not because she _wants_ to hurt or punish Xueer for lying to her and conspiring against her. Finding out the person she’s learned to rely on and has confided so much to would obviously hurt Jiaqi, and it would certainly make her question the authenticity and sincerity of everything Xueer’s ever said to or done for her… but Jiaqi is Jiaqi. This is the person who, despite everything Xueer just told her about how many more people will get hurt or die for her, will do everything in her power to still _prevent_ that from happening anyway. Xueer doesn’t think she’s particularly special in Jiaqi’s eyes or anything incredibly conceited like that, but she knows Jiaqi well enough now to know that if she could just have her way, no one—not Mr. Yang and not Xueer—would have to die just so she could prove to everyone that she’s ruthless and strong and a worthy successor to her father’s throne. 

It’s funny. Xueer spent most of her life dreaming of having everyone’s eyes on her. She used to think that there was no other place for her in this world but on stage, performing in front of hundreds or even thousands of people. She never once thought she had a place in the shadows, never thought she could belong there. For the longest time she told herself that there would be no other path for her, just this one, and that dancing, performing, were the only things she was good at or would ever be good at. Those were certainly the only things she knew at the time, so maybe that’s why she believed those were the things she was born to do. 

She believed she was born to be on stage, with the world’s eyes on her. Believed that was her birthright, even. Believed that was the only way she could make her family proud and prove to them that all of the time and money they’d invested into this dream of hers were worth it. She _had_ to make it worth it. In a painfully literal sense, she couldn’t afford to fail, not when they’ve supported her all this time and she still had to pay them back in more ways than one. She would never forgive herself if she didn’t. 

She wonders now if she would have changed her mind about all of that if she’d met someone like Jiaqi, who, unlike Xueer who had to fight to make herself seen and ultimately still failed in the end, was pretty much born with everyone’s eyes on her. Someone whose existence is just so impossible to ignore or look away from, especially when she stands in the way of so many people’s ambitions and greed. She wonders if she would question her borderline ravenous dreams of wanting to be on top of the world if she’d met someone like Jiaqi. 

She’s pulled out of her thoughts when Jiaqi suddenly says, “I’ve been thinking…”

Xueer tears her eyes away from the vague and distant point she’d been staring off into to look directly at Jiaqi, waiting on her curiously.

“With everything that’s happened, _especially_ last night,” Jiaqi explains, wrapping her arms tighter around her legs, “I’ve been thinking that maybe you should— _could_ —move into my place for the meantime. You know, stay with me this blows over.”

It shouldn’t be this difficult to process a single sentence. “Uh…”

Witnessing Xueer’s reaction, Jiaqi rushes to clarify, her face flushing pink, “It’s just—I’d feel safer if you were around, and… I guess I won’t worry so much about you that way too.”

Ah. So _that’s_ what this is about.

It’s not that Xueer _doesn’t_ believe Jiaqi about the first part, because she does. An ambush is more than enough to spook anybody, and it’s only natural for Jiaqi to worry about her safety when she knows that the people who want her dead won’t stop until she’s actually dead. Aside from that, it _is_ still technically Xueer’s job to protect Jiaqi and Jiaqi _is_ still technically her boss, so this is a reasonable enough request and one that she’s contractually obligated to agree to. But the other thing Jiaqi just said? She didn’t quite expect _that._

Xueer feels… flattered? Maybe even a little giddy? Maybe something else entirely that no one has come up with a word for yet, because neither of those two words really capture what she’s feeling now. Is there even a word—just a singular word—in any language that could perfectly encapsulate what it would be like if someone just reached into your rib cage, grabbed your heart, and then squeezed it so hard and so tight that it just stopped beating entirely? Would Xueer have to pen a letter to whichever authority is in charge of making up words to make up a word for this particular feeling?

A more familiar feeling creeps up on her: guilt. She’s already acknowledged that she doesn’t want to kill or even just harm so much as a hair on Jiaqi’s head, and in an ideal world she could walk away from all of this without endangering her life and potentially even her family’s and Shuxin’s lives, but knowing that Jiaqi cares about her to this extent just… it just makes her feel like the worst person who’s ever lived. Makes her feel like a monster, even. Makes her wish she never took on this job, because she would have turned it down too if she’d just known Jiaqi would be able to get under her skin like this. 

It’s too late for all of that now. Xueer’s here already, and she’s doomed herself to having to make one choice and one choice only. All of these what-ifs that have been floating around in her head are nothing more than silly, useless musings because she knows that the consequences of turning on Mr. Yang are far greater than the consequences of just doing the thing she was sent here to do in the first place. It’s Jiaqi’s life or hers, and maybe even the lives of her loved ones if Mr. Yang’s willing to go that far. And even if he didn’t lay a finger on her family, her death would still be a huge blow to them, especially financially. She’s not sure yet if that’s a risk she’s willing to make, never mind all of the things Jiaqi makes her feel.

This is what Xiaotang was trying to warn her about, isn’t it? God. She _really_ hates it when Xiaotang is right.

“Last I checked, it was _my_ job to worry about _you,”_ Xueer says in an honestly pathetic and lifeless attempt at a joke. What else can she say or do anyway? 

At least Jiaqi doesn’t seem to sense any of the turmoil Xueer’s got going on—turmoil over _her_ —because she just smiles and replies, “I did just watch you get shot. I don’t think you can really blame me for worrying. But… You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, you know. I don’t wanna force you into doing anything, especially if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

“It’s my job to keep you safe,” Xueer tells Jiaqi, feeling even more and more like a phony by the second, “and if having me there with you gives you peace of mind, then I’m all for it. Besides, we do need to tighten up security anyway. At least if I’m there, I can keep a much closer eye on things.” 

Jiaqi purses her lips. It seems like she wants to ask Xueer if she’s sure about this or apologize for asking this from her, but then remembers she’s the boss here and she should be acting like one. And again: it’s not like her request is unreasonable anyway, and it _is_ still Xueer’s job to keep her safe. “Can you move in today? I don’t want to rush you or anything, but I’m still really spooked by what happened and I honestly just don’t wanna be alone there, at least not for too long. I don’t think I _can_ be just yet.”

Xueer nods. “Of course.”

“You can use the spare bedroom there, you know the one. I’ll have it tidied up and prepared for you while you pack your things.”

Xueer nods again. “Yeah. That works.”

Then finally: “I’m really sorry that I have to ask you to do this, Xueer…”

“It’s fine,” Xueer replies, as she always does. She hopes the smile she gives Jiaqi is convincing enough. “After all, that’s what I’m here for, right?”

Jiaqi smiles at that, though she still looks apologetic. After a few seconds, she asks, “By the way, what’s for breakfast?”

Right. Xueer had forgotten about that, which is just… so, so weird to think about. She’d have to be really miserable to forget about _breakfast._ Embarrassed, Xueer admits, “Uh… nothing, really. I haven’t restocked my fridge yet and I’m out of melon milk, but I doubt that counts as ‘breakfast.’”

“Hmm… well, I _could_ have food brought over,” Jiaqi mumbles, mostly to herself. To Xueer, she asks, “Is there anything in particular you want?”, making no attempt to pretend that she isn’t calling back to that night she and Xueer had dinner together.

While Xueer does appreciate the sort-of-joke, it does nothing to make her feel any better about everything going on. Simply, she replies, “Anything’s fine by me.” 

Jiaqi nods. She pats herself down in search of her phone, remembers she didn’t bring it with her and there are no pockets on anything she’s wearing, then gets up from her chair and makes her way back to Xueer’s room. Xueer’s eyes trail after her until she’s well out of sight, then she slinks down further into her seat and buries her face in her hands to muffle the groan she lets out. 

* * *

Xueer finishes lacing up her boots, stands up to smooth out any creases and folds on her shirt, then shrugs on a jacket. 

She’s dressed down today, sporting a very casual and far more comfortable t-shirt and jeans combo instead of her usual uniform. This was all Jiaqi’s suggestion, because of course it is; it would give the wound a little more room to breathe, she said, and at least Xueer wouldn’t have to worry about a tight-fitting suit jacket and many layers of clothes inhibiting her movements when her wound makes it hard enough for her as is. And honestly, Xueer wasn’t really feeling like getting all dolled up today anyway. She’s still exhausted, she still feels like shit even after taking some meds to mitigate the pain, and all she really wants to do is lie in bed all day. She really doesn’t have a whole lot of energy to spare for looking sharp and dashing and spiffy today.

Xueer turns around just as Jiaqi finishes tucking in her button-down—as in _Xueer’s_ button-down, because of course it is. There’s still a part of her that can’t believe last night actually happened. They got ambushed, Jiaqi really stayed the night and slept in the same bed as Xueer, and she’s now wearing one of her Xueer’s shirts to a meeting with her dad, Mr. Yang, and the rest of the team. Of course it’s that last part that makes her blush even when she knows there’s nothing for her to be blushing about, really. It’s not like they know Jiaqi slept over at Xueer’s, so it’s not like they’ll know the shirt Jiaqi’s wearing now is actually Xueer’s, and so it’s not like they’ll end up thinking the two of them were up to… stuff. _Would_ they even think that? Surely they know Xueer’s in no state for… uh… strenuous activities, so to speak. She could barely even drag herself out of bed this morning. And would they even _really_ bother to stick their noses into Jiaqi’s business? She’s a grown woman, she can make decisions for herself, do whatever she wants, and—

“You okay?” Jiaqi asks, snapping Xueer out of her train wreck of thoughts. “You, uh, had this look on your face just now and…”

“Oh… no, it’s, uh…” Xueer clears her throat. She really hates that she has to resort to lying even for matters as small and trivial as this, but she doesn’t think telling Jiaqi about any of the stuff she’s been thinking would make things not-weird either. “It’s nothing. Really. I just felt this… sudden pain, but it went away after a few seconds, so it’s all good now.”

“I see,” is all Jiaqi says, though her furrowed brows give away just how concerned she really is. “You good to go?”

Xueer nods. She checks the time on her phone—the notifications for missed calls and unread texts have only continued to pile up; she’ll get to those later—then suggests, “We can wait in the lobby. They should be here in a few minutes anyway.” Jiaqi hums in acknowledgement. 

The night-shift security guard isn’t around now but that doesn’t spare Xueer and Jiaqi, but Xueer especially, from wary and frankly terrified stares from the lady at the front desk and the day-shift security guard. Their eyes go from Xueer to Jiaqi to the two burly men flanking them on the opposite sides of the sofa they’re sitting on and then back to Xueer again. She supposes management really wishes they’d looked deeper into the nature of Xueer’s work and _who_ she’s working for. They might _want_ to kick her out for having ties to the Xu family, but it’s also precisely because of those ties that they’ll know better than to fuck her over or make her life even just a tiny bit inconvenient.

Well, she’s probably doing this building’s management a favor, then, by agreeing to stay at Jiaqi’s until this hullabaloo blows over. 

Xueer hasn’t quite wrapped her mind around that yet. They got ambushed, Jiaqi stayed the night, and now Xueer’s moving into the spare bedroom in Jiaqi’s magnificent penthouse for the time-being. Apparently it isn’t enough that even when they’re apart, all Xueer can ever really think about these days is Jiaqi, and even her thoughts regarding and concerns for herself always somehow still tie back to Jiaqi. But no. No, now they have to co-exist in the same space and wake up to each other’s faces every morning and be with each other literally every single second of every single day now. That’s far from a terrible arrangement, obviously, and stay-in arrangements aren’t unusual at all for bodyguards, but after that little _moment_ last night, Xueer knows now that she should probably avoid having Jiaqi be _that_ close to her again because she just— just— When Jiaqi is _that_ close to her, all logic just goes out the window, the gears in her brain come to a screeching halt, and she just can’t get a grip or a hold of herself and then she’s hit with all those thoughts she probably shouldn’t be entertaining and it’s all just so fucking overwhelming. 

Is Jiaqi psychic? She must be, because just as Xueer finds herself spiraling into even more chaos and madness in her mind, she quietly loops her arm around Xueer’s and rests her head on Xueer’s shoulder, her hair tickling Xueer’s neck and jaw. Nonplussed, it takes a few seconds for Xueer to relax into Jiaqi’s touch, but even then her heart continues to twist itself into tight and uncomfortable knots in her chest. She knows that Jiaqi is affectionate and touchy, and she’s definitely been touchy with Xueer before, but Xueer’s not used to receiving _so much_ of it in such a short period of time. And Jiaqi’s just so, so, _so_ close to her that it makes her feel a little dizzy.

Despite all of that and despite knowing that it might be the better option for her sanity right now, Xueer doesn’t pull herself away from Jiaqi’s touch. She can’t get herself to. It would just be too… cruel, in a way. The past couple of hours have been real rough on Jiaqi and she knows that all Jiaqi really needs right now is someone to lean on. Xueer might not be the right person to be that, but she _is_ all that Jiaqi has right now, so the least Xueer can do is just… do what she needs to do and be what she needs to be in this moment. Even just for a few seconds or a few minutes, she can ignore the fact that nothing about this or about them will ever be as simple as they would like.

A few minutes later, their car arrives. It’s an entirely different and brand new bulletproof Mercedes-Benz and even the backup car’s been replaced with a shiny new Land Rover. Xueer finds something about that a little jarring. The cars are almost completely identical to their previous ones and almost make it feel like last night never happened at all. Except, of course, that it _did,_ and these are different cars, two new men have replaced the two of her men who died last night, and even the man behind the wheel of the Mercedes-Benz is a new, different guy.

“I’ll be filling in for Mr. Gao for the meantime,” the new guy informs Xueer after they exchange quick greetings. He’s significantly younger than Mr. Gao but still a little older than Xueer. He seems pleasant enough but Xueer does miss that sense of familiarity and comfort that she’s already developed with Mr. Gao, and she’s honestly not really in the mood to build up rapport or get chummy with this guy right now.

Xueer fastens her seatbelt and asks, “Do you know when Mr. Gao will be back?”

“They didn’t say,” the new guy replies as he steps on the gas and begins driving them to the Xu estate. He checks the side mirror. “I was just told the cover for the old man while he takes some time off, but they didn’t say for _how long_ he’d be taking a time off, you know?”

Well, he’s definitely more of a talker compared to Mr. Gao. Xueer mumbles, “I see,” checks on Jiaqi from the rearview mirror, then spends the rest of the drive in quiet contemplation.

The tension in the air at the Xu estate is so thick, you could cut it with a knife and maybe even hold a slice of it in your hands. Mrs. Cai comes rushing out of the front door the moment Jiaqi and Xueer step out of the car. Frantic with worry, she gives the both of them once-overs and stumbles over and jumbles her words as she asks them if they’re okay, thank god they’re okay, and oh god, she was just worried _sick_ about them. 

“It’s okay, Mrs. Cai, I’m fine,” Jiaqi gently reassures the older woman, sounding a lot more put-together than Xueer knows she really is. It’s commendable, really. “What about Xukun? Is he okay? Have you spoken to him?”

Mrs. Cai nods and says, “He called me earlier this morning. Said he was fine, but the two of you… Especially _you,_ Xueer…” She looks like she’s going to faint any second now from all the stressing and worrying she’s doing right now.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me,” Xueer says in an attempt to lighten up the mood a little. 

Xueer belatedly realizes that maybe her joking around about it will only earn her a scolding from Mrs. Cai and will only make Mrs. Cai worry more about her, both of which are _not_ the things she’s going for right now, but after a brief moment of disbelief, Mrs. Cai’s lips curl into a smile and chuckles softly to herself.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be underestimating you girls so much,” Mrs. Cai remarks, then she sighs to herself, tired and relieved and fond. “I’m just glad you’re both okay. Now, let’s get going. The others are waiting in the study. But…” She pauses, brows furrowed again, then says to Jiaqi, “Your father’s been anxious all morning, so perhaps you should go see him first, just to show him you’re alright, then you can head to the study together.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jiaqi says, then she turns to Xueer. “Come with me?”

Xueer nods and they make their way inside.

Xueer’s never actually been inside Mr. Xu’s room. Hell, she hasn’t even _gone near_ it. She would inevitably end up in this part of the mansion where his room is, tucked away in its own quiet corner, whenever she went for a walk around the mansion while waiting for Jiaqi, but she’d never dared go any closer. It just… wouldn’t feel right to. In a way, this part of the mansion is like holy ground, so naturally only a few people would ever be worthy to actually set foot there. Xueer’s well aware she isn’t one of those people. 

The two men who stand guard outside Mr. Xu’s room are armed with shotguns today. They were never this heavily armed in the past, but back then the Jus weren’t hellbent on killing every single person that stood in the way of their ambitions to reclaim Shanghai as their own, so they could afford to be a little lax. Now though? It honestly wouldn’t be a stretch or an exaggeration to say that they can’t afford to _blink_ because letting their guard down for even just a few seconds could mean life or death now. 

The nurses tending to Mr. Xu jump to their feet when Jiaqi enters the room, bowing their heads low and stumbling over their words as they greet, “Good morning, Ms. Xu.” Jiaqi smiles amicably at the both of them and greets them a good morning too, then she makes her way to her father’s bed and sits by the edge of it. Xueer stands by at a distance.

“Kiki,” Mr. Xu rasps, then he goes into a coughing fit. Jiaqi takes his hand into hers and softly says, “I’m here now, Dad, it’s okay.”

Mr. Xu reaches up with his free hand and cups Jiaqi’s cheek. Solemn, he says, “I heard about what happened.”

The nurses take this as their cue to leave. They excuse themselves and then scurry out of the room, only pausing briefly to bow to Xueer when they pass by her. 

When the nurses are out of earshot, Mr. Xu asks Jiaqi, “How are you, Kiki? How are you _really?_ Are you okay?”

Jiaqi doesn’t answer immediately, which should tell Mr. Xu everything he needs to know, really, but after a moment she answers, “I’m fine, Dad. Really.” 

Xueer starts to think that maybe she should give Jiaqi and Mr. Xu some privacy too, and the longer she stands here the more awkward and intrusive she feels, but then again, Jiaqi _did_ ask her to come with her so that probably means it’s okay for her to stay. Mr. Xu hasn’t asked her to leave either; hell, he hasn’t even noticed she’s here at all. But still—

“Oh. There you are, Ms. Kong,” Mr. Xu says, finally taking notice of Xueer. Jiaqi looks over her shoulder at Xueer too. Mr. Xu pushes himself up into a sitting position then beckons for Xueer to come closer. When she shuffles awkwardly and unsurely on her spot, he smiles and quips, “Come on, don’t be shy.”

Xueer walks over to Mr. Xu’s bed and stands by Jiaqi’s side, then Mr. Xu tells her, “I want to thank you personally for keeping Kiki safe last night. Fuqing called me in the middle of the night to report what had happened and I barely got a wink of sleep because of how worried I was for Kiki. But knowing you were there, that she had you to protect her, and that you even took a bullet for her… You have my deepest gratitude, Ms. Kong.”

Xueer bows her head in thanks but also says, “I was just doing my job, sir.” 

“Kiki speaks very highly of you, you know,” Mr. Xu says after a moment, the smile on his face both gentle and a little… knowing in a way that only parents can ever be. 

Jiaqi’s facing Mr. Xu so Xueer can’t see her reaction, but she _does_ see the amused glint in Mr. Xu’s eyes, which means he really must mean something else. That’s what Xueer _thinks,_ anyway, but she really might just be reading too deep into this. Well, whatever. She does her best to stop herself from blushing all the same. “I…” Xueer starts unsurely. She clears her throat. “I’m, uh, glad.”

She hears Jiaqi mumble, _“Dad…”_ Xueer’s not sure if her brain’s just making this up too, but there’s something about the way that Jiaqi says that that makes her sound a little embarrassed.

Mr. Xu chuckles, crows’ feet creasing, then more earnestly he says, “I’m glad the both of you are okay—or at least as okay as you can be despite everything that’s just happened. Fuqing told me you were unharmed but…” He smiles, weary and a little sad. “I guess I just had to see it for myself, you know? I wouldn’t be able to put my mind at ease otherwise.”

Jiaqi takes his hand into hers again and says, “I’m sorry I worried you so much.” 

“I suppose I shouldn’t have worried _too_ much. You’ve got quite the tough cookie with you, after all,” Mr. Xu says, smiling at Xueer. He falls silent for a moment, then he sighs. “I’ll be honest with you, girls. I always believed there would come a day when this would happen… a day when the Jus would finally break the truce and just… finish what we started. The old man isn’t the kind to take things like that sitting down. If anything, he must have just been biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. That’s certainly something I would have done if I were him. Still… I’d hoped it wouldn’t happen so soon, or _at all,_ actually. Just once I wanted to be proven wrong.”

“Well, that’s what we’re all here for today, right?” Jiaqi says. It’s interesting to see her putting on a brave face now for her father. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I hope we do,” Mr. Xu says. He pulls his blanket off and Jiaqi gets up to her feet to help him as he gets out of bed. “Alright. Let’s not keep the others waiting for much longer than we already have.”

Xueer follows Jiaqi and Mr. Xu from behind and as she watches the father and daughter duo, she suddenly remembers her conversation (if it could even really be called one) with the doctor. _That look on her face reminded me a lot of her father when he was younger,_ he said. _Always made me wonder how someone like that—someone with a heart like that—ended up becoming the most powerful man in Shanghai._ Looking back on what he said now, Xueer wonders if he was trying to tell her something else all along. If he was implying something else all along. 

_Not with a heart like hers,_ Mr. Yang once said about Jiaqi, which just seems to contradict everything the doctor said about Jiaqi’s father. She _is_ his daughter, after all, and if Xueer’s reading correctly into what the doctor was trying to tell her, then Jiaqi has a heart like her father’s. The only difference is that the doctor didn’t really make that sound like a flaw or a weakness. Even if he did say that he wondered how ‘someone with a heart like that’ could have gotten this far and this powerful in a cutthroat world like this, there was nothing about the way he spoke about Mr. Xu that gave Xueer the impression he thought having ‘a heart like that’ was a weakness the way Mr. Yang thinks it is. Didn’t he even say that despite all of that, Mr. Xu was still the most ambitious person he’s ever met, and certainly a force to reckon with?

Was the doctor trying to say that Jiaqi could achieve the same things, if not more, her father did? That Jiaqi, like her father, would be able to make it far and make it big despite having all the odds stacked against her and despite having something that is commonly seen as a weakness? At this point, it doesn’t seem far-fetched to think that maybe, just maybe, the doctor was even implying the one thing everyone saw as a weakness could be Jiaqi’s greatest strength… as long as she’s able to _use_ it as such, anyway. 

They pass by the garden on the way to the study, which makes Xueer think about the story Mr. Yang told her about it and the reason it was built in the first place. The garden, this big and grand estate: this was all for Jiaqi’s grandmother, wasn’t it? _Something big and grand and nothing like she or her children grew up with_ —that was her dream, and even though she didn’t live long enough to see it realized, Mr. Xu still made that dream, that wish, come true. He was ambitious, yes, but he also had something he believed was worth fighting for. Someone he wanted to do all of this for. Things and people he believed in, cared about.

In many ways, then, Mr. Xu wouldn’t have gotten this far without a heart like that. Maybe that’s what makes him different from Mr. Yang, and maybe that’s what will make Jiaqi different from Mr. Yang too. 

* * *

Xueer walks around the garden while she waits for the meeting to end. She would have stayed at the kitchen with Mrs. Cai, who would probably fuss over her and spoil her with all the food and tea available in the Xu mansion’s pantry, but she figured she could do with some time by herself. She’s honestly still too exhausted to be spending so much time around so many people, and even though she knows Mrs. Cai only means well, she just doesn’t have the energy to deal with all the fussing right now either. She just… she just needs to be alone even just for a few minutes. Just a few minutes to herself to clear her mind, recharge her social battery, the whole nine yards.

The me-time thing is going pretty great until Xueer’s phone buzzes in her jeans pocket. She ignores it but then it buzzes again, and then another time, then finally it buzzes for much longer and Xueer decides she can’t ignore whoever is trying to contact her (it’s really just either Shuxin or Xiaotang… or both of them, at the same time) for much longer. Sighing, the fishes her phone out of her jeans pocket and brings it to her ear. 

“Kong Xueer, what the fuck,” Xiaotang says before Xueer can even say anything, then Shuxin joins in and whines, “Why’ve you been ignoring our messages and calls, dummy? We were worried sick about you!”

“Hey to you too,” Xueer mumbles. Xiaotang and Shuxin don’t hear that though because they start yapping at the same time, talking over each other in the process and making it difficult for Xueer to understand a thing _they’re_ saying. Well, no worming herself out of this one now. She looks around just to make sure no one’s around to eavesdrop or anything—and no one is, of course, but better safe than sorry—then says more sarcastically, “And I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I was _shot_ last night so I’m not in the best shape right now, physically or mentally—but especially physically—for, like, anything.”

“Yeah,” Shuxin says, and the tone of her voice lets Xueer know she’s in for a hell of a lecture, “but you could have at least _told_ us that through text or something. Just a simple and quick message would have been fine. The fact you weren’t answering our calls or messages only made us worry about you more, idiot, and how else are we supposed to react or feel when we find out first thing in the morning that _you were fucking ambushed_ and honestly we didn’t even know you, specifically, got hurt but now we do know and _now_ I’m just more livid that you weren’t picking up our calls and I’m even more worried sick and—“

“Okay, okay, _hey,_ calm down,” comes Xiaotang’s voice, and it sounds like she’s taken the phone from Shuxin. Something tells Xueer she’s in for a lecture from Xiaotang too. “Jeez, the both of you, really— Shuxin’s got a point, though. I mean, you can’t really blame us for worrying about you, right? Word gets around fast here, you know that, and I’d prefer to hear from you directly than have everyone else get to us first and tell us this and that, making us think you’re just… I dunno… _dead_ already. I’m not blaming you or anything silly like that because I know how fucking shitty it is to get shot and go through all of that, but hey, at least just tell us _something_ to let us know you’re alright, you know? You could literally just text _’Fuck off’_ and I’d honestly be okay with that already.”

Xueer feels bad now. They do have a point and she knows that they’re coming from a good place. “I’m sorry for making you guys worry like that,” she says. She heaves a tired, _tired_ sigh. “I was going to let you guys know I’m fine, but… I was just too fucking exhausted to do anything else, honestly, and it just slipped my mind in the end. I’m sorry.”

“Rough night,” Xiaotang says more patiently and gently this time, “yeah, we know. We’re just glad you’re more or less okay.”

“Where’d you get shot this time?” Shuxin asks. “And how bad is it?”

“Chest… near the shoulder… ish… A flesh wound, is all. Still hurt like a bitch, though,” Xueer explains, and rather terribly at that. Oh, well. She’s sure they’ll get what she means anyway. They have a way of doing that in the way only long-time friends can. “All in all, pretty manageable.”

“Hmm,” goes Shuxin, unconvinced. “I don’t know if I trust you when you say something like that is ‘manageable’ because you’re just the _worst_ when it comes to evaluating these kinds of things.”

“Hmm,” goes Xiaotang this time, “yeah, I gotta go with Shuxin on this one. Your arm could be hanging limp off its socket and you’d probably say it’s just a scratch, no biggie.”

“That is _not_ true!” Xueer fires back. Okay, fine, she might be too stubborn to let anything stop her or get in her way, not a bunch of broken bones or a wound or whatever else, but she’s really not as… _disastrous_ as Shuxin and Xiaotang are making her sound. She’s not! “My arm is _not_ dangling off its socket or anything stupid or morbid like that. _Jeez._ Besides, aren’t we going a little off-track now?”

“Hey, we’re just looking out for you,” Xiaotang says, and Shuxin chirps in, “Because you need to be looked out for, you big baby”

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you,” Xueer all but groans. 

Admittedly, they’re not wrong about _that,_ in a way, and it makes her think that maybe she actually, genuinely sucks at this whole taking-care-of-others schtick, be it her family, who are the main reason she wound up with this job in the first place, or Jiaqi. Being the only child and the precious baby girl of the family, she grew up fairly spoiled and had gotten used to being the one being looked after, but she grew up and had to make herself grow out of that real fast. Seems like she hasn’t quite gotten the hang of it yet, though, but is that really her fault when she was formally trained to _kill_ not do this… protective, bodyguard shit.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Xueer says, “Listen, I’m really thankful for you guys looking out for me, I am, but no matter what happens or no matter what you hear, just promise me you won’t go to Shanghai while all of… _this_ is still happening, okay? Stay away from here. I don’t want you guys getting tangled in this mess because you’re associated with me. As far as everyone else is concerned, I’m just another one of the Xus’ people so if what I think is happening is exactly what’s happening… I just don’t want this to be a ‘wrong place at the wrong time’ kind of thing, you know? Just let _me_ handle all the shit going on here, alright?”

Xiaotang and Shuxin are quiet for a long moment, then Shuxin says, “You make it hard not to worry about you, you know,” which sounds too eerily similar to what Xiaotang said to her yesterday, “but… _fine._ Just don’t leave us in the dark when shit hits the fan, alright? You almost gave Xiaotang and I heart attacks today.”

Smiling despite herself, Xueer replies, “Yeah, yeah. I promise.”

“Okay, enough about you,” Xiaotang cuts in, and Xueer rolls her eyes, “but what about Ms. You-Know-Who? How’s she doing?” 

Of course it’s Xiaotang who’s asking her about Jiaqi. Shuxin doesn’t react in any way that would imply that Xiaotang told her about what she and Xueer talked about yesterday, so Xueer allows herself a breath of relief. She’d be fucking _mortified_ if Shuxin knew about all of _that._ It’s not that she wants to keep it from Shuxin forever, but she’s gonna need to find the right time to actually talk to Shuxin about it—and that time isn’t now.

“She’s…” Xueer starts, purses her lips, then settles with: “She’s been better.”

“I can imagine,” Xiaotang mumbles. Xueer wonders if she’s thinking about their conversation yesterday too. She must be. Shuxin, meanwhile, sympathetically sighs, “Poor thing.”

“To her credit,” Xueer feels the need to tell them, “she actually handled herself pretty well when we were ambushed. It was honestly pretty impressive.” _After_ is a different story, of course... 

“...Uh-huh,” Shuxin and Xiaotang say simultaneously. The tone of their voices is both teasing and incredulous.

Xueer’s face heats up. “What? I’m just _saying—”_

“Yeah, yeah,” Xiatotang interjects with a snicker, “whatever you say, lover girl.” Shuxin sing-songs, “Lover girl, lover girl.”

Xueer groans. How did this start off with them scolding her for making them worry so much and then end up with them making fun of her for her Jiaqi situation again? Again, though, at least she can count on Xiaotang to keep a secret for her, at least until she’s ready to fill Shuxin in on everything.

She’s probably gonna have to find time to talk to Xiaotang again, though, because she’s gonna need all the help she can get to process all of those realizations she had last night about why she feels the way she does about Jiaqi and, most of all, why she doesn’t actually want to kill Jiaqi. Kinda hard to keep her promise to Xiaotang when she knows now that she doesn’t want to do the one thing that’ll ensure she comes out of this job alive and in one piece.

Xueer turns to look back at the mansion for a moment and finds Mr. Yang stepping out for a walk in the garden. He stops briefly when one of the helpers says something to him, probably to tell him lunch is ready or something like that, to which he nods and smiles and he carries on walking. He’s got his eyes on Xueer now.

“I gotta go,” Xueer tells Xiaotang and Shuxin. “Our favorite guy is here.”

“Ugh,” Shuxin remarks and when Xiaotang scoffs, she says, “Hey, I don’t have to like every single person I do business with.”

“Stay away from Shanghai, alright?” Xueer reminds them one last time. She knows her best friends well enough to know that if they feel like Xueer’s gotten herself into much deeper shit, the kind of shit she shouldn’t possibly be able to handle on her own, they won’t hesitate to rush to Xueer’s side despite everything Xueer just warned them about. She loves them for that, of course she does, but it’s precisely because she loves them that she can’t have them doing anything crazy like that. “I’ll… I’ll be fine. I’ll settle what needs to be settled here.”

“Fine,” Xiaotang and Shuxin groan at the same time, but Shuxin adds, “You know we’re only a call or text away if you actually do need help though, right?”

“I know, but I’m gonna make sure it doesn’t get to that,” Xueer replies. She looks over at Mr. Yang again. “I’ll talk to you guys later,” she tells Xiaotang and Shuxin, and after they give quick goodbyes, she ends the call.

As Mr. Yang approaches, Xueer gets a much better look at his face. She spots little scratches on his face and one significantly big and nasty-looking one on his forehead, just by his left brow. When he stops in front of her, she says, “Rough night?”

Mr. Yang smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Looks like he didn’t appreciate the little joke. He jerks his chin at her chest and echoes, “Rough night?”

Touché. Xueer slides her phone back into her jeans pocket then says, “I’ll get right to it, sir: was last night part of the plan or not?”

“You certainly don’t waste time, I’ll give you that,” Mr. Yang remarks, slightly amused. He looks around them then jerks his chin again, this time at some vague direction ahead of them, and Xueer instantly understands what it means. They walk together, in step, for a full minute of silence before Mr. Yang finally answers Xueer’s question: “To be entirely honest with you, Ms. Kong, it was not… though I suspect you must have figured that out for yourself already, correct?”

Xueer slips her hands into her jacket pockets and shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to make sure,” she replies simply.

They continue on to walk in silence again for a few seconds. After some consideration, he sighs and mumbles, “Well, we’re in the shitter now so I suppose it would make no difference if I told you…” Gathering himself, he continues on to explain, “You see, Ms. Kong, what the Jus and I _did_ agree on was that they could do just enough to ruffle Jiaqi’s and everyone else’s feathers. Just enough to make everyone really believe they posed a threat to us. Of course, I have to be informed beforehand and whatever they intend to do has to have my approval. Like I said, everything they do has to be _just enough_ to make everyone believe what we want them to believe—nothing more, nothing less.

“I also made it clear to the Jus that you, Jiaqi and myself are off limits,” Mr. Yang says, and he doesn’t bother to hide his irritation. That’s enough to let Xueer know that he must be _really_ pissed deep down and, well, she can’t really blame him. She’s pretty fucking pissed now herself. Mr. Yang allows himself to seethe for a moment then he composes himself. “Anyway, as I was saying, that was how it was supposed to go. We would gradually escalate the violence and the carnage until it gets to the point where Jiaqi will be forced to do something about it, because knowing her, she would choose to bide her time to look for an alternative to actually facing the Jus head-on. I would even advise her to do so, if necessary… but it’s like I said: this is Jiaqi we’re talking about, and I don’t think she’d want to make a decision just like that knowing what’s at stake and knowing this is going to be her trial by fire. All we really needed to do was nudge her towards the direction we want her to go and to make the decision we want her to make.”

Xueer has a feeling that she knows where this is going, but she doesn’t say anything for now.

“You see,” says Mr. Yang, “this is a conversation we should be having at a different time and under different circumstances. Circumstances that are favorable to me, of course, but that’s not how things have played out, and it seems like our partners have gotten impatient. As I said, we would work together to do _just enough_ to nudge Jiaqi towards the path we want her to take, and that path would lead her to sitting in a room with me, old man Ju, and his grandson to negotiate for an end to all the bloodshed. _You_ would be in that room too, and—“

“And you would have me kill Jiaqi,” Xueer finishes for him, somehow less surprised than she’d expected to be, “but it won’t stop there. It’d be the perfect time to get rid of the old man and his grandson too. Three birds with one stone.” A little more sourly, she mumbles, “Well, at least now I know why you offered to pay _that_ much. You weren’t paying for one head. You were paying for three.” Shuxin’s not gonna be happy when Xueer tells her about _that._

Mr. Yang doesn’t respond to that remark, and instead just says, “Of course, you would kill Jiaqi first, just to make them think we’re all still on the same page. After _that_ , though, when they’re nice and vulnerable, you’d have to take them out too. Better there than anywhere else, after all. If we let them slip through our fingers like that, we might never get the chance to kill them easily ever again. Remember, I don’t actually plan to split control over Shanghai with them, and I know they don’t want that either. They want _full_ control. The only way this will end is with us actually going to war with each other, and while I don’t think killing the old man and his grandson off will prevent that from happening, it’s still better to get rid of them as soon as possible to destabilize their organization significantly.”

Xueer gives herself a moment to absorb and mull over that before she asks, “What about the granddaughter?”

Mr. Yang stops in his tracks, surprisingly, and turns to face Xueer completely. He stares down at her with curious, somewhat suspicious eyes that contrast greatly against the impassive expression he maintains on his face. Xueer doesn’t back down from that, of course, and stares back up at him as she waits for him to say something. His gaze softens and eventually he relents—at least, that’s how Xueer wants to see it—and coolly says, “She won’t be that big of a problem after we get rid of her brother and grandfather.” 

Seems like he’s already figured out that Xueer did a little research on him and his deal with the Jus and if he’s mad about that… then, well, whatever. At this point, Xueer doesn’t really care anymore and it’s because of that that she tests the waters a little by asking, “Don’t you think you might be underestimating her a little?” She’s starting to see a pattern here. First Jiaqi, and now Jingyi. “I mean, don’t you think she could potentially pose a threat?”

Although Mr. Yang still doesn’t look too pleased with the idea of Xueer prying deeper into his business like that, he sets that aside for now as he answers, “She’s significantly smarter and sharper than her brother, that’s for sure, but she’s nowhere near as formidable as she would like to think she is. She could rally their men behind her to avenge her brother and grandfather’s deaths—though I honestly doubt she would ever care enough to do that for her troublesome brother alone—but that’s nothing I can’t handle. She’s nothing but a child in the end, albeit a pretty gutsy one, I’ll give her that.”

Looks like nothing will change his mind about Jiaqi or Jingyi. He might find Jiaqi and Jingyi to be similar, which is why he doesn’t see Jingyi as a threat despite acknowledging how she’s much sharper, smarter and definitely far more vicious than her brother—and definitely far more vicious than Jiaqi. But, of course, none of that matters because to him, Jiaqi and Jingyi are nothing more than a pair of brats that he has to deal with and get rid of. 

Xueer finds herself thinking again that maybe he should be a little more… _careful_ of who he’s underestimating and belittling because there’s always still the possibility that Jiaqi won’t act the way he expects her to, or that he might actually push her a little too far and she ends up doing something that will compromise his plan and, well, _everything_ else. Mr. Yang has emphasized that he wanted the Jus to do ‘just enough’ to push Jiaqi but Xueer doesn’t think there’s any real way to definitely say when they’ve done ‘just enough.’ Anything could be enough to push Jiaqi to do things she typically never would do or to make decisions she typically would never make. They’d just have to catch her on a really bad day and that might be enough to make shit really hit the fan and make things even messier.

Everything Jiaqi told her this morning alone has proven that Jiaqi’s nowhere near as naive as Mr. Yang thinks she still is. She’s not a kid anymore, even if he keeps thinking and insisting that she still is. She might not know that her beloved uncle is in cahoots with the Jus, but it’s like she said so herself: there’s no going around this. The Jus aren’t gonna back down now, and based on what Xueer’s just learned from Mr. Yang, it looks like they’re calling off the deal with him for good too. They’re going all in on this and Jiaqi knows there’s close to _nothing_ she can say or promise to them that will make them renew the truce with the Xu family. 

That makes Xueer wonder, though… “Will you try to sort things out with the Jus?”

Unexpectedly, Mr. Yang replies, “Maybe, maybe not. I initially intended to, irritated as I am at them, but then I realized I could still further my cause by gradually persuading Jiaqi to take the Jus head-on. The violence would escalate, naturally, and it will reach that point where the authorities might have to intervene and force both parties into a negotiation, or perhaps Jiaqi will decide that all the bloodshed is not worth it and will offer to meet with the Jus to negotiate for peace. Whichever the case, it’s still possible for me to make things work out in my favor and I might even be able to persuade the Jus that it’s better to work with me again than to focus all of their efforts on trying to kill Jiaqi themselves. Now it’s just a matter of deciding which course of action to take.”

“What I’m getting from this,” Xueer says after a moment of consideration, “is that you still want to push the narrative that the Jus hired me to infiltrate the organization, get close to Jiaqi, and then get rid of her for them. That’d give you enough of an excuse to come swooping in to save the day by killing them, making it look like you killed me too, and then continuing on with the war to wipe out as much of their forces as you can.”

Mr. Yang shrugs. “More or less,” he replies. “We didn’t get to discuss it the last time we went for a stroll here, but once you’ve fulfilled your end of the contract, you’ll have to leave Shanghai immediately. You might even have to leave China entirely for a month or two, at least until I’ve… cleaned things up here. You will be duly paid, of course, and I will personally ensure you have safe passage out of here. Remember, I have to make everyone believe I’m avenging Jiaqi’s death and if her father or our other men find out you’re still alive, that’ll spell trouble for the both of us.”

“I figured,” Xueer mumbles. She still doesn’t trust him, of course, and she knows that he could easily change his mind about not killing her any time, but she’s at least got a better understanding of the bigger picture now. In a way, it’s kind of a good thing that shit hit the fan and the Jus have gotten impatient. She knows that Mr. Yang wouldn’t have ever told her any of this if none of that had happened, or he would have waited until the last minute to drop all of this information on her and _then_ he would have decided to get rid of her. No room for loose ends, after all. “Well, sir, what now?”

“Now,” Mr. Yang replies, and he sighs, “we wait. There’s nothing else we can do but wait until Jiaqi decides on something, because her father wants _her_ to decide. I’ll do my best to… _sort things out_ with the Jus in the meantime, but you and I, we can’t do anything substantial until we know what Jiaqi’s next move will be.”

Xueer isn’t too surprised by that, but… “So we’re just gonna sit it out while the dead bodies pile up.”

“Pretty much,” Mr. Yang confirms, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. They begin to walk back to the mansion and after a minute of not-totally-uncomfortable silence, “I heard Jiaqi stayed over at your place last night.”

Xueer’s glad she’s staring down at the ground and at her boots because just the mention of that has her blushing again, and she would really rather not have _him_ see _that._ She has enough people all up in her business already. Keeping the tone of her voice as nonchalant as possible, she replies, “She was rattled by what happened and asked if she could stay the night. Didn’t feel like I had any other choice but to let her.”

“Jiaqi said as much. You know, the way she talks about you… it seems like Jiaqi’s taken _quite_ a liking to you.”

Xueer stares down even harder at her boots. “Well, you wanted me to make her trust me right? I’m just doing my job.”

“You might be doing _too_ good a job,” Mr. Yang remarks, teasing and just short of a snicker. It doesn’t take long for the implications of that statement to settle in and Xueer does her best to not trip over herself when it does. Before she gets a word in and before she gets to deny whatever there is to deny, though, Mr. Yang continues, “Frankly, I don’t care how you got about it as long as you’re getting the job done—which, evidently, you are. Who knows? You could even use that to help _nudge_ Jiaqi towards the outcomes I—no, _we_ —want, don’t you think?”

Xueer just hums in response, still too embarrassed to trust herself to actually _say_ anything. It’s just—it’s fucking unbelievable. Mr. Yang never had to explicitly say it, but she already knew what he was getting at with the _way_ he said what he said. And it is fucking _unbelievable._ Just— _Ugh._

Mr. Yang chuckles. “So much for saying you didn’t look like a bodyguard, right? She certainly sounded like she regretted ever doubting your bravery or your abilities when she told us about what happened to the two of you last night. You’ve done more than enough to convince her now, I’d say.”

It makes Xueer uncomfortable to hear Mr. Yang talk about _that._ Something about having _him_ talk about it just doesn’t sit right with her. It’s as if he were intruding on something that was supposed to only be between Jiaqi and herself. _Their_ thing. She bites her tongue, though, and settles for saying nothing at all in response to that, because saying nothing at all is almost always the safest choice there is. 

Before they part ways, Mr. Yang tells Xueer, “Well, Ms. Kong, you know the drill. I’ll contact you if necessary.”

Xueer huffs. She can’t help herself and says, “So keeping me posted about our situation with the Jus isn’t ‘necessary’ enough for you, is that it?”

Even though his lips curl into a smile, Mr. Yang doesn’t look too pleased about the attitude Xueer’s giving him. Not that Xueer really cares anyway. “Don’t concern yourself with those matters,” he tells her rather coldly. “Business, negotiations—I didn’t hire you for any of those things, and you’d be better off leaving those things to me. Besides, I don’t think you’d actually want to get a call from me. I trust you’re smart enough to know what I mean.”

 _Jackass._ Xueer supposes he does make a valid enough point there, though… He _did_ say that he’d only ever call her if it was urgent or if they had an emergency at hand. All that really means is that if he calls her first then shit has _really_ hit the fan and they’re fucked. 

“If that’s all,” Mr. Yang says, already turning on his heel, “then I’ll be going now. I’m sure the others must be looking for me already, and I don’t want my food to get cold.” He offers her one last unnerving not-quite-smile when he says, “I’ll see you around, Ms. Kong,” and Xueer keeps her eyes on him as he leaves, her sight zeroed on him and on the back of his head as if she were staring down the scope of a rifle.

* * *

Xueer wakes up staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. This is her room, technically, but it isn’t _her room,_ not the way her room in her flat is _actually_ her room. None of that matters in the end, of course, because she’s already agreed to stay here at Jiaqi’s, it’s all part of the job, and she’s been here for three days already, so she should really get used to waking up in this unfamiliar room and in this unfamiliar bed and staring up at this unfamiliar ceiling.

It’s strange to think about how just three days ago she woke up like this too, staring up at her ceiling, but with Jiaqi sound asleep beside her, and now she’s pretty much living with Jiaqi. It’s strange and also just way too early for her to be doing this much thinking about so many things all at once… but that’s been her life ever since she took on this job, so she should be used to it by now. She is, kind of, but— _whatever._

Right on cue, Xueer hears Q-Mi start to scratch at her door. It’s something Q-Mi’s done every single morning ever since Xueer moved in. She figured it was because Q-Mi was just curious about the person now occupying this room that always used to be empty, then she realized it could also be because Q-Mi’s territorial and probably isn’t cool with Xueer just barging into a space she probably marked as hers. Well, Q-Mi hasn’t given Xueer the claws of death yet, so it must be the former rather than the latter. God knows Xueer would prefer it to be that way.

When Xueer doesn’t get up immediately to, you know, pay attention to her, Q-Mi starts meowing and scratches even harder at the door. Despite starting off her morning on a rather… weird note, Q-Mi’s antics still bring a smile to Xueer’s face. She forces herself out of bed, walks to the door, opens it, and is greeted by Q-Mi staring up at her. Then: _”Meow.”_

“Alright,” Xueer says as she bends down and picks up Q-Mi, “Come on in.”

Xueer settles back down on the bed and spends a few minutes—she has no idea how many minutes, exactly; it’s too early for her brain to process that kind of shit—petting Q-Mi in all the places and ways she’d seen Jiaqi pet her before. Q-Mi, cradled comfortably in Xueer’s arms, purrs in delight, eyes fluttering close when Xueer scratches her behind her ears. When it looks like Q-Mi’s need for pets has been thoroughly satisfied, Xueer sets her down on the mattress and watches Q-Mi as she rolls to lie on her back and then stares back up at Xueer. Xueer’s not really sure what that means but she reaches out and scratches Q-Mi under her chin, which Q-Mi seems pretty happy with so Xueer must be reading this right after all.

Xueer begins to feel sleepy again after a few more minutes of petting and playing with Q-Mi, who honestly has way too much energy this early in the morning. “Shouldn’t you be with Jiaqi right now anyway?” Xueer mumbles to Q-Mi, who’s back to demanding for more pets again. She supposes Q-Mi must have woken up Jiaqi just to let her out of the room and Jiaqi must have gone back to sleep after that. As she pets Q-Mi, Xueer scoffs and incredulously says to Q-Mi, “I can’t believe you wanted to claw my face off when we first met and now you’re coming to me for attention.”

Q-Mi only innocently meows at Xueer and gives her those kitty cat eyes. It works, of course.

Despite the wave of sleepiness that’s just hit her, Xueer decides to go to the bathroom to clean up, get changed, and then head down to the floor designated as Jiaqi’s private/personal parking area to check on her motorcycle. She brings Q-Mi along because the cat wouldn’t stop following her around. She doesn’t mind, really, and she’s sure that Jiaqi won’t worry too much about Q-Mi’s whereabouts knowing there’s only one other person the cat could have gone with. So off Xueer goes with Q-Mi cradled in one arm and her cleaning kit.

After setting Q-Mi and her things down on the floor, Xueer gets to work. Truth be told, Xueer doesn’t know a whole lot about cars and motorcycles. Still doesn’t, really. She can appreciate them just fine but she’s far from being an expert on them. The only two people in Xueer’s life who are crazy about that kind of stuff are her dad and Keyin, who’s the entire reason she even has this motorcycle at all. Keyin said something about how Xueer had enough money to spend on some toys anyway and she had _just_ the thing for her. Xueer gave in because there’s just no saying no to Keyin and because she genuinely does trust her when it comes to these things. Keyin ended up being right about how Xueer would end up loving the motorcycle because it’s one of Xueer’s most treasured possessions now. That’s why she’s here now cleaning it up to keep it nice and spiffy, of course, but there’s also the fact that Keyin would have her head if she doesn’t take good care of it. 

Xueer’s mind flies while she goes about cleaning and polishing her motorcycle. It never settles on one thing for too long, just lingering long enough for Xueer to start unpacking all of her thoughts and feelings on the matter before suddenly jumping to a different thing entirely—which is obviously a nuisance because Xueer’s got _a lot_ on her mind and _a lot_ of things to worry about. All the cleaning she’s doing now is the only thing that’s stopping her from turning into a massive ball of frustration and annoyance because she isn’t focused _entirely_ on the… overwhelming amount of _everything_ going on in her life right now. 

Xueer’s just finished with her work when Q-Mi, who’d been quiet the entire time, suddenly meows.

“I figured you’d be here,” Jiaqi says to Xueer. She’s still in her pajamas, with an oversized and surprisingly worn-looking hoodie thrown on and her hair tied into a loose bun, but Xueer’s still feels that painful heart-squeezing sensation upon looking at her. Unfair; everything is so unfair. She bends down to pick up Q-Mi and dedicates about a minute to just cuddling and nuzzling her. “Q-Mi must really like you if she followed you all the way here. Or, I guess, made you bring her with you, which sounds more like something she would actually do.”

“It was definitely that,” Xueer replies, focusing all of her attention on packing her supplies and tools back into her toolbox. 

“I don’t think Q-Mi liked my previous bodyguard very much, to be honest,” Jiaqi tells Xueer. “He was a nice man, don’t get me wrong, but I guess Q-Mi just… didn’t vibe with him. She never went near him when he’d step into the penthouse to sweep the place. She seems to like _you,_ though, even if she started off a little _hostile_ with you. She was probably just testing you and it looks like you passed with flying colors.”

Xueer sighs with a smile. “Well,” she says, “that does sound like something Q-Mi would do.”

“It might sound a little weird, but I trust Q-Mi’s intuition when it comes to people,” Jiaqi says with meaning now, and it’s enough to get Xueer to stop what she’s doing. “I don’t know... I guess it must just be an animal thing, but so far everyone Q-Mi’s taken a liking to, I’ve also gotten along with very well. Just look at Dai Meng and Sun Rui, though I suppose they don’t make for very good examples to prove my point since I don’t know anyone who hasn’t been won over them somehow. Anyway, what I’m saying is, Q-Mi’s never been wrong about people before and anyone who’s good to Q-Mi is good by my books.”

 _What does Q-Mi think of Mr. Yang then?_ Xueer doesn’t actually ask Jiaqi that, of course, opting instead for a vague and noncommittal hum as she shuts her toolbox. She tries not to think about the implications of Jiaqi’s words too much too.

A beat of companionable silence passes and Jiaqi remarks, “I know you told me your previous bosses weren’t a lot of fun”—it was Jiaqi who said that, really, not Xueer, but whatever—“but it looks like they were very generous despite that.”

It takes a few seconds for Xueer to read between the lines and get right to what Jiaqi really means to say. She’s talking about Xueer’s BMW motorcycle which is, admittedly, quite pricey, or at least a little above the means of most bodyguards and most security personnel. Mr. Yang pitched her as having experience serving as a bodyguard to other important big-name people, mostly businessmen, to keep things vague enough but not _too_ vague that it starts raising questions. That would mean that Xueer, at least in this story they’ve fed Jiaqi, shouldn’t be making way, _way_ more than most bodyguards make, not even those with VIP or VVIP clients. 

Xueer doesn’t sense any suspicion in Jiaqi’s words or voice, but her curiosity has definitely been piqued. Xueer gets up, hefty toolbox in hand, and replies as nonchalantly as possible, “I just saved up my money for it, that’s all. I also got it second-hand from a friend of mine,” and that last part is sort of, kind of true. Xueer has no idea where Keyin got this motorcycle or how, but that still _technically_ makes it second-hand, right? Right? 

“You done?” Jiaqi asks. Q-Mi meows too, as if she were also asking Xueer if she’s done. 

Xueer inspects the motorcycle one last time, nods, and says, “Yup. That should do,” then they make their way to the elevator. 

When they’re inside the elevator, Jiaqi says, “You must really like cats, huh.” The out-of-nowhere-ness of it makes Xueer think that Jiaqi’s talking now just for the sake of talking and to fill the silence.

It’s harmless talk, of course, so Xueer shrugs and replies, “Well, when I was a kid I wanted to have a pet cat but my mom wouldn’t let me. Said something about how it would only shed its fur everywhere and how I probably wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility yet. I guess that’s why I have a soft spot for cats.”

Jiaqi thinks about that for a moment then asks, “Why don’t you get one now then?”

The elevator doors open with a _ding!_ and Xueer simply explains, “I’m just too busy.”

They wrap up their morning by having breakfast together. Xueer still finds it surreal that this is what her mornings have looked like for the past few days and what they will continue to be for however long Jiaqi will ask her to stay. She’s not uncomfortable being alone with Jiaqi like this, sharing a meal with her, because this isn’t the first time they’ve been together like this, but it’s more the concept of this being her new normal that she just can’t wrap her mind around completely yet. It’s like how she’s used to seeing and being with Jiaqi almost every single day but not like _this._ It’s just… a little strange. Not uncomfortable at all but… strange, and she’s trying her best to not be so awkward about it but she’s sure Jiaqi must already know how this is all so _strange_ for her.

One thing Xueer _does_ really appreciate about this arrangement, though, is the fact that she gets to dress a lot more comfortably. Since the meeting with Mr. Xu and the rest of the gang, Jiaqi’s stayed holed up in the penthouse, a decision made for security purposes and which Jiaqi found no reason to argue against. Any and all meetings with her would be held in the penthouse until further notice, all documents would be delivered to Jiaqi, so on and so forth. That, of course, means that Xueer doesn’t actually have to suit up. She’s stuck with button-downs and jeans since moving in and while she would rather just be in her pajamas if she’s just going to be stuck inside all day, she still needs to maintain _some_ semblance of professionalism and presentability in front of their guests.

Xueer tucks her shirt into her jeans then gives herself a final once-over in the full-length mirror. After an unnecessarily intense minute of debating with herself, she decides to unbutton the first three buttons of her shirt again just to look less uptight or something. When she’s done with all of that, she applies a light layer of makeup—again: a semblance of presentability, blah blah—brushes her hair one last time, grabs the tablet that she accesses the CCTV cameras through, then heads back out. 

She finds Jiaqi sitting on the couch, preoccupied with scrolling through a document on her iPad. Q-Mi is curled up beside Jiaqi, and she looks up, ears perked, when Xueer approaches them and asks, “Did Ms. Dai Meng say what time she and Ms. Sun Rui would be coming over?”

Jiaqi looks down at her wrist out of habit and, realizing she doesn’t actually have a watch on, checks the time on her iPad instead. “She said they’d be here by nine-thirty or ten,” she says, “but I honestly don’t think they’ll be here until eleven at least. When I spoke to her on the phone a few minutes ago she sounded like she was still in desperate need of _more_ sleep.”

Xueer figures that Dai Meng must be experiencing some sleeping problems too. Jiaqi mentioned in passing that Dai Meng and Sun Rui aren’t doing so well themselves, way too effectively rattled by the night of the simultaneous ambushes. Xueer can only imagine the extreme levels of paranoia and anxiety they must be feeling right now, which is why she finds it a little odd that…

“What is it?” Jiaqi asks Xueer, pulling her out of her thoughts and back into reality. “You’ve got that look on your face again. Go on. It’s fine.”

“I just find it strange that they aren’t… uh…” Xueer tries to find the words to say what she wants to say. “What I mean is: shouldn’t they also be staying holed up inside their homes? It’s not safe for them to be traveling around so much yet, the same way it isn’t safe for you. That’s what we all agreed on anyway, right?”

“I guess their security’s just a lot looser about these things,” Jiaqi replies rather vaguely. It makes Xueer think that maybe she’s trying to say _Xueer_ could loosen up a little, what with being her bodyguard and the person in charge of her entire security team and all, which Jiaqi picks up on almost instantly and she clarifies, “Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like _that._ I honestly don’t even _want_ to go out, not with how things are right now. I know that this is probably the safest place for me to be right now and I’m not gonna question any of the stuff you’ll have me do for the sake of my safety.” She looks Xueer in the eye when she says, “I trust you.”

And there it is again, that giddy-miserable feeling. All Xueer can do is weakly mumble, “I’m… glad you do.”

Jiaqi smiles at that, then after a brief pause she says, “I think being cooped up for too long isn’t really doing them the good it’s supposed to, honestly. It’s… it’s nice to have others be there for you and be there _with_ you, you know? Helps you not feel so alone when your head’s already so fucked to begin with. I guess I’m luckier than they are when it comes to that, because at least I’ve got you and Q-Mi. I probably wouldn’t last long otherwise.”

 _Yeah,_ Xueer thinks, instantly thinking of Xiaotang and Shuxin, _I know._ She’s kept them posted on how she’s been doing, letting them know she hasn’t dropped dead yet or anything, and they’ve been kind enough to not tease her about the whole living-with-Jiaqi situation. She keeps these thoughts to herself, of course, and says, “I’m just surprised that the guys in charge of their security are just... letting them be, you know?”

Xueer can’t tell if Jiaqi is joking when she replies, “Maybe you should have a word with their guys about it,” and she isn’t given the chance to find out because Jiaqi goes straight back to reading the document on her iPad after, rather abruptly cutting their conversation short. All that tells Xueer is that Jiaqi would rather not talk about any of this right now, which means it’s time for her to fuck off and busy herself with other things. Like her _job,_ for example.

While they wait for Dai Meng and Sun Rui, Xueer monitors all the activity in the building—wherever there’s a CCTV camera, anyway—through the tablet provided to her for this purpose and this purpose alone. She especially keeps an eye on all of the entrances and exits, all of which are guarded and secured by even more of their men. The tenants don’t seem too wary or suspicious of how much tighter the already very tight security in the building has gotten, but then again if Xueer were one of the tenants here, she’d probably know better than to question stuff like that, especially if it’s the owner of the building who decided on it. 

Dai Meng and Sun Rui arrive a few minutes past eleven, just like Jiaqi said they would. Two of their bodyguards follow close behind them carrying plastic bags filled with food—“Lunch,” Sun Rui explains to Jiaqi and Xueer simply—and they promptly leave after setting the plastic bags down in the kitchen. While Jiaqi, Dai Meng, and Sun Rui eat at the living room (though it’s difficult to say where the kitchen ends and the living room starts with these open concept kinds of spaces) while Xueer eats at the kitchen, the tablet propped up in front of her so she can continue monitoring the activity around the building.

“Here,” Xueer says as she drops Q-Mi some of her food. Surprisingly, Q-Mi decided to stay with Xueer instead of Jiaqi—but then again, maybe Xueer shouldn’t be so surprised when she’s the one who can never say no to Q-Mi. She wonders how Jiaqi learned to resist Q-Mi’s antics and if she’ll ever learn to do the same. (Probably not.) When Q-Mi looks back up at her expectantly—though ‘demandingly’ is probably the more accurate word for it—Xueer mumbles, “What? I can’t keep feeding you.”

Q-Mi meows back at Xueer, looking and sounding very disappointed in her.

“Fine,” Xueer groans, dropping some more food to Q-Mi, who gobbles the food up instantly, “But _no more_ after that, okay? And if you’ve got a problem with that, take it up with Jiaqi, not me.” Q-Mi just meows at her again and she realizes her attempts to resist the cat’s charm are futile. There’s no winning here, not with Q-Mi. With that realization, she decides to give Q-Mi some more of her food, sighing, albeit fondly, when Q-Mi eats it all up with a triumphant twinkle in her eyes. 

Xueer tears her eyes away from Q-Mi for a few seconds to check on Jiaqi, Dai Meng, and Sun Rui. They’re not as lively and boisterous as they usually are, but that’s to be expected. She essentially eavesdrops on their conversation for a few minutes but catches no mentions of what happened the other night. That’s to be expected too. 

Dai Meng and Sun Rui look significantly more relaxed now compared to how they were when they arrived, at least. They were both so tense and jittery and somewhat unfocused earlier. As for Jiaqi… well, Xueer’s honestly surprised that out of the three, she’s the one that’s done the best job at keeping it together, or at least she’s been the best at making it appear like she’s got her shit together when Xueer knows she doesn’t, not really. 

Xueer goes back to minding her own business after that. Monitoring CCTV footage all morning long is boring as fuck, though, and there’s nothing much going on that would require her undivided attention, so she checks her phones—her personal phone and the one Mr. Yang gave her—for any messages or calls she might have missed. There’s nothing for her to see from Mr. Yang, unsurprisingly, but Shuxin and Xiaotang have left her more than enough messages to read through and reply to. They’re just checking up on her, mostly, so she reassures them that yes, she’s fine, no, she isn’t bleeding to death and she can take care of herself just fine, thank you very much. She snaps a picture of Q-Mi after and sends it to their group chat with _’food stealer’_ as a caption and they fawn over her, naturally. Xueer tries not to dwell too much on how weird it actually is for her to be sending pics of Q-Mi to her friends as if she were taking pictures of a friend’s cat and not _her mark’s_ cat. 

“You and Q-Mi seem to get on pretty well.”

Xueer looks up from her phone and finds Sun Rui grabbing a drink from the fridge. “Wasn’t always like this,” she tells Sun Rui. “When I first met Q-Mi, I was so sure she would try to kill me or something.”

Sun Rui huffs, her lips curling to a smile. “Don’t take it too personally. Q-Mi’s like that with everyone—yep, even me and Dai Meng. I like to think it’s just because she’s very protective of Jiaqi.”

Xueer looks down at Q-Mi, who’s now curled up into a ball by her chair, full and satisfied. “Yeah,” she says, “I can see that. Jiaqi told me that Q-Mi has this habit of testing people. Or, at least, she was testing _me._ ”

“Makes sense,” Sun Rui replies, nodding slowly. She twists the cap off of the bottled yogurt drink she’d taken from Jiaqi’s fridge, then she tips her head back as she takes a generous gulp. She smacks her lips after, places the bottle down on the kitchen island, then asks Xueer, “How’re you holding up?”

“I’ve been better,” Xueer answers a little too honestly maybe. She instinctively reaches up and touches the spot where her bullet wound is. “It could be worse, honestly. It _should_ have been worse.”

“Huh,” Sun Rui murmurs. She tilts her head to the side. “5.56?”

Xueer nods and when Sun Rui winces, she says, “It’s not pretty, that’s all I can say.”

“If it’s worth anything, I always knew you were one tough motherfucker,” Sun Rui tells Xueer, and Xueer can’t stop herself from laughing. Sincerely and warmly, she says, “But, uh, I just wanted to thank you for looking out for Jiaqi. And before you say something like it’s your job to keep her safe, which I know it is, of course— Jiaqi really likes you, you know.”

Poleaxed, Xueer says, “Uh…” She feels heat crawling up her neck already.

If Sun Rui notices the effect her choice of words has on Xueer, she doesn’t comment on it, instead just barreling on and explaining, “I don’t just mean this in a ‘satisfactory performance’, KPI’s kind of way, though that’s definitely a part of it too. No, what I mean is: Jiaqi… likes you. She’s really comfortable around you and I can see that she likes being with you. She tells us as much. And— And I guess I’m—no, Dai Meng and I are just glad you’re here with her now. I know she’s as fucked up as we are by what happened, if not _more,_ so I’m just really glad she’s got someone like you with her. And hey, if even _Q-Mi_ likes you then that’s gotta mean something, right?”

Xueer feels a little horrible again and a little amazed at how Q-Mi’s impression of people is treated as some sort of _infallible_ litmus test for good character. She sweeps all of the guilt she feels under the rug for now and says to Sun Rui, “I, uh… I don’t know what to say, honestly…”

“I wouldn’t know what to say if someone with a roadrunner for a mouth said all of that to me either,” Sun Rui jokes, punctuating her sentence with a wink. “Just know that you have both my and Dai Meng’s gratitude. God knows how Jiaqi really needs more people she can trust around her.”

Sun Rui seems to be implying something with that last part. Although she said it in a very casual manner, there’s still something about it that makes Xueer think there’s more to it anyway, or that Sun Rui just slipped and said something she probably shouldn’t have to Xueer. She waits to see if Sun Rui will react in any way that would confirm her suspicions, but she gets no such thing.

“Yeah, so, uh, that’s all I wanted to tell you, really,” Sun Rui tells Xueer a little more sheepishly this time. She picks up the bottled yogurt drink and says, “I thought it might be a little weird if I just walked up to you and said all of that, so I needed an excuse”—she looks at the bottle—“to walk on over here. Honestly, I don’t even really like this stuff, but you gotta do what you gotta do, right? Anyhow, I’m gonna head back before they start thinking I’m talking shit about them to you. Jiaqi would be especially insulted.” She very, _very_ gently squeezes Xueer’s shoulder as she walks by her on her way back to Jiaqi and Dai Meng.

Dai Meng and Sun Rui stay until seven in the evening and they have dinner together with Jiaqi, with Xueer left to her own devices in her own quiet corner in the kitchen, Q-Mi diligently waiting by her side for blessings from above (read: food). Xueer spends most of that time thinking about what Sun Rui said. There’s a small voice in her head that tells her she might just be overthinking things again, that she’s just reading way too deep into something that might not really mean anything after all, but there’s an even bigger and more overwhelming part of her that insists Sun Rui must have meant _something,_ otherwise why bother mentioning some like that at all? Honestly, she doesn’t really know what to think or what to believe; her ever-growing guilt and her realizations regarding Jiaqi have done nothing but mess with her already thoroughly messed up head. Literally _anyone_ could say literally _anything_ and there’d still be a part of her that’ll think it has something to do with herself and Jiaqi somehow.

Xueer watches as Jiaqi exchanges lengthy goodbyes with Dai Meng and Sun Rui. Dai Meng seems to have gotten some of her groove back, her smiles coming easier now and her body is visibly less wound and tense compared to earlier in the day. Sun Rui, on the other hand, comes off as a little _too_ chipper. She seemed to be just fine earlier, or at least being with her friends live and in the flesh put her into a far more relaxed state. Now, though, Xueer can sense that all of the anxiety and paranoia’s creeped back in, and it seems like Sun Rui’s gabbing away and cracking joke after joke to push those feelings down for now. 

There’s not much talking done after Dai Meng and Sun Rui leave. Xueer and Jiaqi just clean the dishes together and then call it a night. Xueer doesn’t mind and honestly, all she really wants right now is to be reunited with her bed. She starts stripping off her clothes as soon as she shuts the room to her door, struggling to maintain balance while she takes her jeans off as she hops her way to the bathroom. When she’s done getting cleaned up and done changing the dressing of her wound, she puts on her favorite and most comfortable pajama set then crawls into bed, wrapping the thick and warm blanket around herself with a contented and sleepy sigh. It’s still quite early too.

Just as she closes her eyes, ready to succumb to sleep, she hears scratching noises followed by a soft meow.

Xueer forces herself out of bed and walks to the door. She opens it and Q-Mi instantly walks up to Xueer, her tail quivering. She rubs her face against Xueer’s pajama pants and purrs. 

“You aren’t sick of me yet?” Xueer murmurs to Q-Mi when she kneels down to pet the cat, fond and in disbelief. She figured Q-Mi would get used to her presence in the penthouse eventually and, thus, would get bored of her, but that doesn’t seem to be the case at all and it doesn’t look like Q-Mi’s going to get bored of her any time soon either. After a few minutes of quietly petting her, Xueer sadly and sincerely says to Q-Mi, “I’m sorry that I have to lie to you too.”

Q-Mi just continues to accept all of the affection and attention Xueer gives her, of course, and Xueer starts to feel silly for even talking to Q-Mi like she actually understands a thing. Apparently very satisfied with all the chin-scratching, Q-Mi rewards Xueer by nuzzling her face into Xueer’s palm, purring low and soft. The small act of affection doesn’t fail to bring a smile to Xueer’s face, of course.

“I’m really glad you don’t hate me anymore, though, even if it’s just for now,” Xueer says earnestly. “I don’t think you’ll like me very much after…” She pulls her hand away and when Q-Mi tries to follow her inside, she tells the cat, “Go. Go back to Jiaqi. She must be looking for you.”

Although Q-Mi doesn’t look like she wants to leave, she does seem to understand what Xueer is saying this time because she meows at her one last time before she goes. Xueer watches Q-Mi as she goes and stays rooted where she stands even after Q-Mi is long out of sight. Then she sighs.

* * *

“Ow,” Xueer mumbles under her breath as the doctor cleans her wound. Despite the slight sting, there’s nothing wrong with the wound or with herself, really, and she’s been incredibly careful too, but Jiaqi insisted that the doctor come over and check on it himself. She knows it’s not because Jiaqi doesn’t trust her abilities to take care of herself or anything like that, but because it’ll give her some peace of mind. Xueer doesn’t really mind, either way, though she knows must think of her and of this as some kind of nuisance, grumpy old man that he is. 

The doctor huffs and while he carries on with his work, he rather sarcastically says, “Gotta say: I’m impressed you’ve actually heeded my advice and haven’t done anything stupid, or at least nothing _too_ stupid that it’d tear this wound right open.”

“Kind of difficult to actually do anything _significantly_ stupid when I’m locked inside here all day,” Xueer retorts. She inhales deep and slowly breathes out through her nose as the doctor applies a very light and thin layer of petroleum jelly on the wound and the area around it. It doesn’t hurt too much, just a very dull sting every now and then, but she keeps her breathing calm and controlled just in case. 

The doctor huffs again. He sets aside the petroleum jelly and reaches for the fresh bandage. “Well,” he says, “better here than out there. You would definitely come running to me with far, far worse than what you have now like the rest of your men have been.”

He’s right, unfortunately. After a week of uneasy and anxious quiet, everyone on edge and waiting for something to happen, something finally _did_ happen. Mr. Yang was considerate to shoot Xueer a short and concise text message tipping her off about how the Jus were just waiting to see how Jiaqi would retaliate or if she would retaliate at all and that they’d start going after their men again soon. Well, that’s exactly what happened and exactly what they got, with nightly ambushes and scuffles, classic turf war style. There haven’t been any civilian casualties yet and it seems like even the Jus want to avoid that, but as is it’s been difficult keeping the police out of their business and their business out of the news. Jiaqi’s phone has been practically glued to her ear from how many phone calls she’s had to make to this person and that person. 

Maybe that’s why Jiaqi’s taken this time to go for a swim. To be by herself for a while, no phone calls to make, no people to worry about (though Xueer doubts Jiaqi could ever stop worrying about _that_ ). That, and maybe she just doesn’t want to have to look at Xueer’s wound again, even if she isn’t literally a bloody mess anymore and the wound’s nowhere near as bad as it was when she got it. Well, whatever the case, Xueer thinks Jiaqi’s better off by herself for now and if freezing her ass off in a pool is how she wants to go about it, then Xueer will leave her to it. Xueer’s personally never seen the appeal in night swimming but it’s Jiaqi’s life, not hers. To each their own, after all.

Xueer puts her shirt back on, hissing when she feels a sharp sting from her wound, while the doctor packs his things. She moves her arm around a bit and rolls her shoulders back slowly, just to ease some of the tension out of her muscles, and as she goes about that, the doctor suddenly says, “She worries for you.” 

There’s something about the way he says that that makes it impossible for Xueer to find anything to say back to him. That seems to be a… _thing_ that’s been going on. Everyone’s been saying things about her and Jiaqi in this certain way she can’t really tack a description onto, and all she can really do is squirm awkwardly, suddenly feeling too _watched,_ like they were all in on something so personal and so private.

“I know she worries for everyone,” the doctor continues, “but she worries a different kind of way for you. At least, that’s what I see and how I see it. She certainly cares more about you than she cares about me if she had me go all the way here knowing there’s a whole lot of shit going on outside instead of letting _you_ go to me.”

Of course he’s got the time to insert a snarky remark, though there’s no bite to his words. It’s more lip service than anything.

“Well, what would they want with an old man like me anyway,” the doctor says as he finishes packing up his things. “They’d get nothing out of killing me. It’d be a waste of time.”

“You’re selling yourself short, doc,” Xueer quips, though she has to admit that he _does_ have a point. She knows that they _probably_ won’t try to go for her, not yet anyway, but between the two of them she’s technically still the more valuable one. Valuable to _Jiaqi,_ especially. “What would we ever do without you?”

“Die, probably,” the doctor says bluntly, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Tell me: how _is_ she doing anyway?”

“Oh,” Xueer replies, “You know.”

“Hm,” goes the doctor, instantly catching Xueer’s drift. Not that it’s too difficult to tell how Jiaqi’s been doing, anyway. He seemed to catch on to that the moment he arrived. Xueer isn’t giving him any new information, not at all. “Well, then,” he says, then he walks past her and heads straight for the elevator. 

Xueer follows behind him. “You aren’t going to, I don’t know, say bye or something?”

“I don’t think she wants to be disturbed right now,” the doctor says as he jabs his thumb at the down button. “Not by me, anyway. She might make an exception for you, though, I think.”

Xueer huffs and before she can stop herself from running her mouth, she runs her mouth: “I don’t know whatever the hell it is you’re trying to get at with all the—the stuff you’ve been saying.” It takes a few seconds for her own words to make sense to her own ears, but when her brain finally processes everything she’d just said, she immediately starts wishing the ground beneath her would swallow her whole.

The doctor raises a brow, nonchalant, and says, “I thought I made myself quite clear: she worries for you… and I can see that you worry for her in the same way.” The elevator doors open at that moment and as he steps inside, he adds more teasingly, “Feel free to interpret _that_ however you’d like,” then he’s gone. 

Embarrassed and infuriated, Xueer stays glued to her spot for at least a minute, staring at her reflection in the shiny elevator doors, then she turns on her heel and walks to the kitchen. She grabs a glass, fills it with water, then chugs it all down in one go. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand after. She’s not sure why she did all of that considering the fact she’s not even actually thirsty right now. What difference does it make, though? Nothing has made sense in her life since she took on this job. 

Xueer looks around for Q-Mi, hoping for a pick-me-up through the cat’s antics (even though she still feels a tiny bit of guilt getting so close and comfortable with Q-Mi), but she’s nowhere to be found. Not _inside,_ anyway. She must have followed Jiaqi outside to the pool. 

The doctor’s words ring in her ears and she considers just going back to her room or finding something else to busy herself with instead of giving in to this urge she feels to go outside to check on Jiaqi. She could easily make an excuse for it too— _Oh, I was just looking for Q-Mi; I don’t think she’s had her dinner yet_ —but… 

Why’s she overthinking this anyway? And why does she even need an excuse to go outside to check on Jiaqi when it’s kind of her job to be doing that stuff anyway? 

Xueer takes a long and deep breath to quiet her mind, then she sets her glass down in the sink and drags herself out to the pool.

It’s just as she expected: Q-Mi is curled into a ball on one of the loungers by the pool, Jiaqi is aimlessly swimming back and forth and end to end in the pool, and it’s cold as fuck outside. 

Q-Mi raises her head when she sees Xueer approaching, but she loses interest pretty fast and goes back to sleep, the wind rustling her fur. Xueer sits down by the edge of the lounger Q-Mi is on and starts petting Q-Mi, who leans into her touch with a contented purr. Xueer puts all of her attention and focus on petting Q-Mi, forcing herself to stop overthinking this… this whole thing so much, especially because there’s nothing to even think about it in the first place. There’s no reason for her to be torturing herself like this over going out here when it’s literally her job to make sure Jiaqi’s okay in every way conceivable.

“Hey.”

Xueer looks up from Q-Mi and finds Jiaqi resting at the side of the pool, her chin resting over her folded arms. The pool lights give her this strange but fascinating kind of glow and make her stand out so starkly against the dark of the night. It’s a little dizzying, really. “Hey.”

“I would invite you for a swim,” Jiaqi says, her lips curling into a smile, “but… you know.”

Xueer tries to laugh convincingly but she’s pretty sure she’s failing miserably at it instead.

“So, what did Uncle say?” Jiaqi asks, probably changing the topic for Xueer’s sake. 

It’s only now that Xueer realizes that the doctor didn’t actually say anything. He just went about checking, cleaning, and re-dressing the wound and then he left. Well, Xueer knows she’s fine and if the doctor had nothing to say, then that must mean he saw nothing to worry about. Given that, she tells Jiaqi, “Nothing to worry about. It’s slow going, but it’s healing. Could be worse, basically.”

Jiaqi allows herself a few seconds to take that in and then nods. “I see,” she murmurs, a far-away look in her eyes, then after a long beat of silence, she snaps back to her usual (or as ‘usual’ as it can get) self and jokes, “I guess it was overkill to have him come over, huh?”

“It’s fine,” Xueer replies stiltedly and _way_ too awkwardly. It’s unfair—it’s _so_ unfair—how she just gets _like this_ when she’s around Jiaqi for longer than five seconds. Well— Even five seconds is enough to turn her into a mess, honestly. She clears her throat again and mumbles, “I… uh… I appreciate your concern,” kicking herself for suddenly sounding so formal when she and Jiaqi have long thrown all formalities out the window. 

Jiaqi manages a strained smile. “I know I worry about you too much, and I’m really sorry about that,” she tells Xueer, her eyes downcast. A long, pensive moment passes, then she says, “Asking you to stay here with me, having Uncle come over to check on you… I know you can handle yourself just fine, and I’ve definitely _seen_ that with my own eyes, but I guess I just can’t help it. With everything going on now, I just feel like… like if I blinked, or something, you’d just… you’d be gone too.”

Xueer tries to think of something to say to that that won’t sound awkward or stilted but gives up when she accepts that there’s just nothing she _can_ say to that. To tell Jiaqi not to worry would be almost irresponsible in a way, and she knows any and all reassurances she could tell Jiaqi would just be empty and pointless. She’d also just be lying some more to Jiaqi no matter what she chooses to say, so she might as well just keep her mouth shut and save herself all of the guilt and inner turmoil she’ll feel over that kind of shit.

Jiaqi pushes herself up from the pool and sits with her back to Xueer. She looks over her shoulder at Xueer and says, “Can you pass me my towel? It’s over there,” and she points to the lounger by the other end of the pool. 

Xueer gets up somewhat reluctantly and walks over to the other lounger. She plucks the towel off the lounger, walks to Jiaqi, and hands over the towel. Their fingertips brush during the brief exchange and it sends a shot of electricity through Xueer’s hand, all the way up her arm, then the sensation spreads throughout her body. 

“Thanks.” Jiaqi wraps the towel around herself then pulls it tighter around her body when a cold and strong gust of wind passes through. Even Xueer gets goose pimples from it. After a while, Jiaqi says a little more lightheartedly, “Honestly, I don’t even know why I thought it would be a good idea to come out here for a swim.”

Xueer chuckles. “Yeah, I don’t like night swimming very much either,” she replies, then after a moment of hesitation, she bends down to roll the cuffs of her pants up to her knees and sits down beside Jiaqi. She dips her feet into the pool, a shiver running through her before her body relaxes and gets familiar with the cold, cold water. “Hey, uh… Can I ask you something?”

Jiaqi shrugs. “Go ahead,” she replies, watching the ripples the movement of her feet create in the water. 

Just like before, Xueer second-guesses herself before she just thinks, _Fuck it,_ and asks, “How are you? _Really,_ I mean.” Jiaqi—rightfully—gives her a puzzled look, a small wrinkle forming in the dip between her brows. “What I mean is,” she starts, pauses for a second to gather her thoughts and find the right words to string together to convey those thoughts, then continues with more certainty, “It’s just… I realized that I haven’t actually asked you how you’ve been doing.”

Jiaqi considers that for a moment then dryly quips, “Well, I’m sure you’ve _seen_ enough to answer your own question.”

“Yeah, but…” Xueer looks down at her feet in the water because she doesn’t think she can force her words out of her mouth if she’s staring right into Jiaqi’s eyes and she’s got that strange but beautiful glow to her because of the pool light and the night glow. “I know that’s not enough, not really. And I… just wanted to _actually_ check in on you. Talk to you.” She clears her throat. “So, uh… yeah.”

Jiaqi is quiet for a long, long moment, then she chuckles softly, heaves a sigh, and says, “I honestly don’t even know where to begin. I guess, well… Do you remember how I told you I didn’t really want to do any of, you know, _this?_ Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about what I would actually be doing, or what I would at least _like_ to be doing, instead of this. The first thing that comes to mind is that maybe I’d have pursued a career as a dancer or performer, somewhere, somehow. I wouldn’t even really want fame, I’d just… I guess all I’d want is to just be able to keep on dancing for as long as I can before my body gives out. Provide for my mom. Yeah, that’s all I would want, I think, but at the same time… Maybe it’s just because I’m neck-deep in all of this now and my life has changed so much these past few weeks—hell, past few _days_ —alone, but as much as I would _like_ that, there’s a part of me that thinks it would be impossible for me to _have_ that. Like… like all of this would have been inevitable anyway, no matter where else my life might have taken me and all that. I can’t shake the feeling that no matter what I do or what choices I make to alter my life, I’d always wind up here anyway. That this is and always will be my endgame. And, you know, honestly, that kind of really fucking sucks.

“I guess, in the end, what I’m trying to say,” Jiaqi sighs, sounding the most tired and most resigned Xueer’s ever heard her, “is that it’s just been really tough. I do find _some_ comfort knowing that at least this time they can’t just pull a fast one on us again like they did that night and that we can fight back and fend them off. That they can’t just push us around, at least. But… You already know that I don’t _want_ us to keep fighting like this. I don’t _want_ more and more of our people to get hurt or even die every night out in the streets just because of me… because I just can’t seem to pull the trigger, figuratively or otherwise, when I know I _have_ to. I know everyone else is getting impatient with me—or, honestly, _more_ impatient than they probably already are—and they might even just want Dad to call the shots again, but he’s in no shape to deal with this kind of stuff now and I won’t let him. I won’t let him fix _my_ messes or _my_ problems for me when he entrusted all of this, everything he’s worked so hard his entire life to build, to _me._

“It all comes back to what I said about how… how it feels like there’s just no way for me to escape this or like there’s just no way for me to create any other possible outcomes for my life, that this is all I can ever be, if that makes sense. So I might as well… try, right? Might as well try to be the leader this organization needs me to be even if I don’t even really want to be here anyway. That’s just how life is sometimes, right? Sometimes you’re somewhere you don’t really want to be, or you’re doing something you don’t really want to do, or you’re… you’re someone you don’t really want to be. You’ve got no choice but to make do with what you have and where you are. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself. It doesn’t makes me feel better at all, honestly, but… it’s like you said: whether I like it or not, this is my world now and there’s a price I have to pay for everything I have and for everything I want to keep. Sometimes this feeling just creeps on me, this feeling of wanting to run away, as far as I can, but I know I can’t and I know I don’t really have it in me to leave all of this behind. So I have no choice but to carry that weight. No choice but to adapt and survive and just… live despite everything I said.”

Xueer’s never actually been hit in the face with a baseball bat, and she’s glad for that, but she imagines what she feels now having heard _everything_ that just came out of Jiaqi’s mouth must be similar to what it feels like to have someone swing a baseball bat right into your face.

It’s a little surreal hearing Jiaqi throw her own words right back at her. Words that she only ever said at the spur of the moment, and words that she never would have dared speak otherwise. She never thought Jiaqi would actually commit those words to her memory. Though perhaps what’s especially harrowing about this is that those words, everything she told Jiaqi that night, also came from a deeply personal place. All that talk about just doing what you have to do to get by: that’s just the way she’s been living all these years. Walking this harsh, bloody, and honestly lonely road… that’s all she’s been doing, all she’s ever learned to do. She wonders now if she shouldn’t have said those things to Jiaqi because it seems like all she’s done is push Jiaqi further down this path and reinforce these things Jiaqi already thinks she ought to be doing even though she’s made her discomfort very clear. 

Well, that’s just the things with words, though, isn’t it? You can’t take them back once you let them leave your mouth. 

Apparently she hasn’t learned from that at all because she says, “I wanted to be a dancer, a performer, too when I was a kid. It was all I ever knew and all I ever wanted, honestly.” She stops for a moment to gauge Jiaqi’s reaction. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “What? Is it that hard to believe?”

Jiaqi furrows her brows even more and purses her lips. “No, no, it’s not _that,_ ” she replies, “because I can definitely see it. In a way, it makes sense even. You’ve got this… this… You’ve got this very specific way in how you move that’s always felt so vaguely familiar to me. I guess I now know _why._ What I’m _really_ curious about now is how you wound up _here._ ”

Fair enough. Xueer shrugs and says, “It’s like you said, I guess: that’s just how life is sometimes. I spent most of my childhood and teenage years training to be a performer, spending every single day tired to the bone and running on fumes for a shot at making it big. I was never really in it for the fame and that was usually the least of my concerns at the time. I thought of it more as something that would be nice to have on top of just being able to do what I love for a living, but it was never my primary goal or anything. Most of the time I would just think about how I _had_ to make it because my parents already sunk so much money into that dream of mine and we’re not exactly loaded. There was money, sure, but just enough to get us by, and they used that very money to help me chase after all those… silly little things I wanted. So I _had_ to make it, that’s what I told myself, no matter how many tries it takes and no matter how much harder I’d have to train until they finally gave _me_ a shot—a shot that I thought I definitely deserved given how much of my life, time, and my family’s money I put into it.

“Well, needless to say, I learned the very, _very_ hard way that that isn’t how life works.” Xueer stares down at her feet in the water again, moving them around slowly and watching how these small movements create ripples in the water. It’s a little hypnotizing, honestly. “At some point, I realized that it just didn’t make sense anymore for me to keep going at it. Three times, I almost made it. Three times, I failed. I guess that deep down, I just knew that I would never actually make it, or that they’d never finally just turn to me and decide to give me a shot. So I… I quit. I quit before my family would lose even more money betting on a silly little girl’s dream. As for how I ended up enlisting… To be honest, there isn’t really any grand or quirky story behind that. I bumped into a former schoolmate of mine and she mentioned that she enlisted, and I thought, well, why not? The pay isn’t too bad and it’s a decent enough alternative if my main goal was to just make back the money my family invested in me, and it _was._ ”

Jiaqi takes a few seconds to take all of that in. “Wasn’t it difficult, though? Having to learn all of that and get used to it, I mean.”

“Honestly? Not really,” Xueer answers. She purses her lips. “How do I put this… Because I was so focused on dancing and, well, singing too—just performing, in general—I never had the time for anything else, which meant that I never took up any martial arts before enlisting. I did worry about that at first but once training started, I actually didn’t have a very hard time learning how to fight. Sure, I still had a significant amount of adjusting to do but fighting and dancing aren’t all that different. I approached everything I was taught like how I would approach all the choreography I had to learn and when I framed it like that, then… yeah, I realized they aren’t so different after all. I suppose one advantage I had over some of the other recruits who also had no prior martial arts experience was that, because of all the years I dedicated to dancing, I knew my body very well and knew my limits, knew how hard I could push myself, knew how to make it do what I needed it to do. I was never the best fighter but I did become pretty good at it and the hand-to-hand, close-quarter stuff was always my favorite part of my recruit days. I grew to enjoy the gun stuff too but I always felt more connected to myself and my body, more grounded, when we would spar. That and I always let out my frustrations with all these things everyone else thought or said about me more effectively when I was throwing punches and, well, people.

“Even then, though, I knew I didn’t really have a future in that line of work. I stuck it out for some time and I did okay, mostly, but I had no choice but to just… find somewhere else to move on to. Somewhere I could at least apply all the things I learned into and, well…” Xueer shrugs. “That’s why I’m here now, I guess.”

Jiaqi is quiet again for a long, long moment, staring off into some vague and distant point in front of them, then she ducks her head and says, “I’m sorry.”

Xueer shakes her head and replies, “It’s fine. It is what it is.”

“I just feel bad because I’m here complaining about things when you…”

“It’s fine,” Xueer says again. “Besides, you really shouldn’t feel bad. We’ve all got shit to deal with, right?”

Jiaqi laughs. “Yeah, I guess so. Different people, different shit.”

“Different people, different shit,” Xueer agrees. She pushes herself up and offers a hand to Jiaqi. “Let’s go?”

“Let’s,” Jiaqi says when she holds onto Xueer’s hand for support as she gets up too. “I’m fucking freezing.”

After Jiaqi showers and changes into her pajamas, they have dinner together and it’s a quiet affair as usual. They have what’s left of the left-overs in Jiaqi’s fridge for tonight and in a way, Xueer honestly prefers this over the delicious but very expensive and very fancy food Jiaqi would order for them from the very fancy restaurants littered all around The Bund. 

They wash the dishes together after and just before they part ways for the night, Jiaqi stops in her tracks and says, “Hey, uh, I just want to thank you for earlier. I… I do feel a lot better after talking to you and just getting some of that stuff off my chest.”

“I’m glad,” Xueer replies almost mechanically. Then she says what she thinks a good bodyguard-slash-sort of friend-slash-sort of confidant-totally not a hired gun would say: “I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

Jiaqi smiles warmly and appreciatively in response, which is more than enough to express what she wants to say to Xueer. 

After Jiaqi takes a shower and gets changed, they have dinner together. Little to no talking is done as usual, though it’s taking Xueer some time to get used to that, to be honest. She doesn’t expect Jiaqi to be her usual talkative and chipper self of course, but it’s still… kind of sad, in a way. Not uncomfortable, because this isn’t the kind of quiet from Jiaqi that’s uncomfortable, but just a little strange and sad. 

When they’re alone like this, Jiaqi doesn’t ever bring up everything that’s been going on, making it very clear that she doesn’t want to talk about it (at least not with Xueer, anyway), but it’s still plain to see how all of the stuff going on outside is eating away at Jiaqi’s heart and her conscience. While they’re safe and cozy here inside the penthouse, high up above and untouchable for the most part, the war carries on outside, down below, and it’s only getting messier and bloodier with every day—or night, rather—that passes. If Xueer were in Jiaqi’s position, she would feel pretty guilty about all of that too even if she doesn’t have to and no one really expects her to. 

She’s also noticed that Jiaqi hasn’t been answering any of the other calls she gets, only ever speaking to the people within her closest circle. One of those people, of course, is Mr. Yang, who’s been keeping tabs on Jiaqi through Xueer. Xueer only ever gives him vague but passable updates on how Jiaqi is faring because she feels bad enough watching Jiaqi have to suffer like this, then she remembers she’s a big part of that suffering too and she only feels worse. The least she can do is keep Mr. Yang out of Jiaqi’s business as much as she can without making him think she’s trying to _hide_ something from him. _Anyway,_ that aside, Xueer knows that Jiaqi must feel terrible about avoiding everyone else, but… well, she can’t really blame Jiaqi either. Her first instinct would be to run away or retreat too. Just get as far away as she can from it all, not just physically but mentally, especially.

...Except there’s a problem with that, and it’s that there’s only so much running you can do before everything you’re running from finally catches up with you. Jiaqi knows this, Xueer knows she does, but there’s only so much Xueer can do for her until Jiaqi herself decides she wants to talk about all of this or figures out what she wants to do about all of this.

After they finish eating, they gather the dishes together and bring them to the sink. When Xueer tells Jiaqi, “It’s okay, you can go ahead. Leave the dishes to me,” Jiaqi insists on helping her out, just like she always does. Xueer doesn’t argue against that, of course, because she’s in no place to and because she’s not going to say no to anything that’ll help Jiaqi feel a little less terrible about everything going wrong in her life right now. 

Xueer puts all of her attention and focus on the task at hand, perhaps too earnestly scrubbing the dishes clean under the water before passing them to Jiaqi for her to rinse then set aside. There’s a certain kind of rhythm to this routine of theirs now after they’ve gotten so used to it—to each other—and they never miss a beat, never fumble. Grab a plate, scrub it under the running water, pass it to Jiaqi, grab another plate—and on and on and on, until there’s nothing left for them to wash and they can call it a night and go their separate ways. 

_Grab a plate, scrub it under the running water, pass it to Jiaqi, grab another plate_ , goes Xueer’s mind, almost like a mantra, similar to how she would repeat the steps of a choreography she’d just learned or a new combination of kicks, punches, throws, and whatever else there is that can possibly be thrown together. This became something of a habit of hers growing up, helping her learn and memorize everything she was learning faster and more effectively, then it eventually also became one of the ways she could keep her mind off of whatever was bothering her. Just focus on the task at hand and go by it step by step in her head— _Grab a plate, scrub it under the running water, pass it to Jiaqi, grab another plate_ —then eventually she’d forget what was even troubling her in the first place.

…. _Usually_ . None of the tricks Xueer’s got up her sleeve really work when it comes to Jiaqi and this job in general. It even seems like the harder she tries not to think about everything that’s going wrong in _her_ life, the more she ends up thinking about that. She knows that her attempts are futile but she’s only human too. There’s always going to be a small part of her that insists she keeps on trying anyway because maybe, just maybe, she’ll succeed even just once and she’ll have a moment of true peace.

Xueer’s gotten so absorbed in her work and in her thoughts again that it takes her a while to realize she’s been holding out the plate she’d just scrubbed clean for a few seconds now. She looks up and finds Jiaqi with her lips pursed and brows furrowed, hands on her hips. Xueer rinses the dish herself, sets it aside, then asks, “What’s wrong?”

Jiaqi shakes her head as she replies, “No, no, nothing’s wrong, just—” She pauses there and then chuckles. “I was thinking just now that it’s probably not good for me to keep sulking around so much like this—and it’s especially not good for me to be dragging you down with me.”

“You aren’t,” Xueer says, then she looks down at the utensils in her hands and begins scrubbing them furiously. She almost passes them to Jiaqi, out of habit, but stops herself and rinses them herself. She washes the glasses they used, sets them aside when she’s done, and musters the strength to look at Jiaqi again. Jiaqi has a brow raised at her, curious and expectant, so she clears her throat and mumbles, “You’re not dragging me down with you, if that’s what you think… and I don’t _want_ you to think that you are.”

Jiaqi is quiet at first then she says, “How about we do something… _not gloomy_ tonight?” She wipes her hands with some paper towels, crumples them, and tosses them into the trash can. Before Xueer can get a word, she holds out her hand to Xueer and with a smile, she asks, “Kong Xueer, will you dance with me?”

It takes Xueer’s brain a while to process what Jiaqi just said. Not that it does a very good job of it, because she mumbles, “Do I… wanna..” Dazed, she furrows her brows. “Huh?”

“You said that you dance too, right?” Jiaqi replies. “I realized I haven’t danced in a while myself, what with running the business for Dad and everything going on now, and I could tell based off of what you told me earlier that dancing makes you feel the same way it makes me feel, so… will you dance with me? I think you and I could both use something that’ll lift our spirits up even just for a while.”

“I…” Xueer ducks her head, feeling embarrassed and shy suddenly, but she accepts that she’s pretty much been backed into a corner and has no choice but to let Jiaqi have her way this time (...again, like several other times before—but Xueer’s not going to think about _that_ for now). She wipes her own hands too then, head still ducked, she says, “Yeah, okay.”

Xueer makes the fatal mistake of looking up at Jiaqi. Jiaqi’s got the brightest smile Xueer’s seen on her face since this entire turf war fiasco has started. A smile so bright that it makes it seem like Xueer’s just given her the entire world and then some when all she’s done is agree to dance with her. What makes it a fatal mistake is the effect that smile has on Xueer. It’s just knocked a few years off her life and then some. She feels like she could pass out any moment.

Throat dry and head spinning, Xueer takes Jiaqi’s hand into hers and lets Jiaqi guide her to the living room. Xueer spares a moment to wonder where Q-Mi’s ran off to, thinking about how silly it is for her to somehow feel a little less self-conscious if the cat were around, but all of her attention is brought back to Jiaqi when she suddenly pulls Xueer closer and holds her close by wrapping an arm around her waist. 

If Xueer felt like passing out earlier, now she feels like her soul’s just left her body completely. This was what she was so worried—no, _terrified—_ about. She turns into an absolute mess when Jiaqi’s _this_ close to her. She already can’t trust herself around Jiaqi on a perfectly normal day, but when they’re like this, everything is just so much worse. Far, _far_ worse.

Despite the crisis brewing inside, Xueer musters enough strength to place one hand on Jiaqi’s shoulder and takes Jiaqi’s free hand into her own. They begin to sway gently.

There’s no music playing but they fall into rhythm with each other easily. “If you weren’t injured, I’d challenge you to a dance battle on _Just Dance_ ,” Jiaqi says jokingly, but knowing her, she probably really, seriously means it too, “but you _are_ injured, so I suppose this should do for now.”

“I don’t think I’d stand a chance against you anyway,” Xueer replies, trying to come off as light-hearted and nonchalant and totally not freaking the fuck out about having her body pressed against Jiaqi’s and about _slow dancing_ with her, like this is some… some fucking movie or something.

Jiaqi laughs. “It’s always the people who say stuff like that that end up winning.”

“You make for a pretty formidable opponent, so I’m still not so sure about that.”

“Yeah?” Jiaqi says, tilting her head. “You think so?”

Xueer just hums in response, and then they fall back into not-exactly-uncomfortable silence again.

Xueer feels like she’s in a trance and time itself just… doesn’t feel real. They could have been swaying around aimlessly for an eternity now and she wouldn’t even know. But it’s… it’s not _bad_ , not really. Even though Xueer still feels a little bit awkward about being with Jiaqi like this, she has to admit that it doesn’t feel _bad._ It’s kind of… kind of _nice,_ actually. 

She hasn’t danced in a long, long time so she’s forgotten how much comfort she actually finds in it. Being able to dance with Jiaqi—even just like this, which she wouldn’t really count as _dancing_ —is comforting too, as much as Xueer would prefer not to find any comfort in that or in Jiaqi at all. She can’t help it, though; dancing is the one thing they share in common and is the one thing that means the same thing and the same amount to the both of them. It’s hard not to feel a little relieved now that she knows there’s someone else out there who just… gets it. Someone who, despite the differences in their circumstances and experiences, actually can understand where she’s coming from. 

It’s just unfortunate that it had to be Jiaqi.

“What’re you thinking about?” Jiaqi asks suddenly. When Xueer looks at her, surprised, she smiles gently and says, “You just look like you’ve got a lot on your mind right now, is all. Couldn’t help but notice.”

“It’s nothing,” Xueer mumbles. Where would she even start anyway if she decided to tell Jiaqi about every single thing she’s got on her mind right now? And it’s not like it would do either of them any good if she ran her mouth now. Nothing: she’s better off saying nothing, and she’s better off feeling nothing. 

“Doesn’t look like it’s nothing,” Jiaqi says, but she doesn’t press on any further after. If there’s one thing Xueer can appreciate about Jiaqi, it’s that she at least knows when to step back and just leave things be. They continue to quietly sway around on the same spot, and after some time, Jiaqi breaks the silence: “There was this girl I used to really, _really_ like back in high school. I met her after I moved to live here with Dad, and she was one of the first few friends I made outside of Dad’s circle. You know, Dai Meng, Sun Rui, and even Xukun. Anyway, we went to the same school and went to the same dance studio too, so I guess it was only natural that we’d become friends. I didn’t realize I actually _liked-_ liked her until I was a little older, and it was… it was a confusing time. I’d only just realized I liked women that way and I didn’t know if _she_ liked women that way too, but I guess at the time, I tried not to get too hung-up on all of that because I was just happy to spend time with her. I mean, I’m sure you know what it’s like to have a crush on someone. Sometimes I’d even forget I was worried about whether or not she would—or could—reciprocate my feelings because my head was just so far up in cloud nine.

“I knew, of course, that I’d eventually _have_ to tell her how I feel. There was a part of me that just wanted to not tell her about it at all, honestly, because I just couldn’t bear the thought of her rejecting me, but another part of me, the more _hopeful_ part of me, won in the end and I decided that I would confess anyway. It wasn’t really a ‘well, what’s there for me to lose?’ kind of situation, because I definitely knew what was at stake, but it’s always that sliver of hope that makes us do stupid things, and, well—” Jiaqi stops there, perhaps now far too lost in all of these memories she’s brought back out from a far corner in her mind, then she continues, “I decided to confess to her after a long, long night of practice and we were the only two people left in the studio. I still remember that night so clearly: graduation was in a few weeks, and we were talking about what our plans were, which universities we’d be going to, all of that stuff. Then she said that she wished prom was a thing here in China, because she had cousins who studied in the States and got to experience that before graduating, and, you know, she saw those a _lot_ in American movies. 

“Now, I don’t know why I thought it would be a great idea, but after she gave that entire speech about how much she wished she got to experience that too, I got up and basically suggested that we just… dance like we saw them do in all those movies we watched together. She was surprised, but she didn’t really think anything much of it. Probably just thought I was kidding around, as usual, and she went with it. So we danced—just like this—and I finally mustered up the courage to just tell her, and…” She chuckles wistfully. “She was nice about it at least. I don’t know why I expected anything else, really. It’s like I said: that sliver of hope is a dangerous thing and makes you do some stupid things. We called it a night, she said we could still stay friends, we graduated a few weeks later, went our own ways, and we never spoke to each other again after that. I was sad about that, and still kind of am, because she was a good friend above all, but… It is what it is, I guess. I’ve met and been with a number of other people after her, but there’s just something about her and about that night that makes me think back to her a lot, even after all this time.”

Xueer gives herself some time to think of what to say… and some time to figure out what it is Jiaqi’s _really_ trying to say to her. _We danced—just like this—_ “Do you regret it?”

“No,” Jiaqi says without hesitation. “I was sad about it, sure, but I never regretted it. Not then, and not now. I _thought_ I would regret it, but I guess, in the end, I was just… relieved, you know? Relieved that I at least got to tell her anyway, nevermind that she didn’t feel the same way about me. It’s not like that would ever make me stop caring about her anyway, and it definitely didn’t change the way I felt about her. We just weren’t meant to be, as cheesy as that might sound. And I guess… I guess there are just some things that I don’t want to leave unsaid. Now, _that_ I would actually regret.”

Jiaqi’s words ring in Xueer’s ears, still. _We danced—just like this—_

“My ex,” Xueer says, her mouth once again moving on its own accord despite her better judgement, “she, uh… Well, she and I dated for quite some time. A long time. My relationship with her was the first—and probably the last—real, _serious_ relationship I’ve ever been in. We came from the same town, shared and pursued the same dreams, and one thing led to another and we kind of just… happened. It was always easy with her because she just had this ability to make anything and everything easy, you know? So when we started dating, there was never anything too complicated about it. She liked me, I liked her, and that was that. Easy.

“Then things… got complicated. It’s like I told you: three times, I almost made it; three times, I failed. Then I threw the towel because pushing on just… didn’t seem like the practical choice anymore.Yuxin—my ex—she pushed on, though, and she never held my decision against me. Never hated me for it or anything, even though we promised each other we’d make it together. She pushed on and I went out to find… something else to do, basically, and in the end she didn’t make it either but to be honest, I think she handled that far better than I did.

“Everything was mostly okay for a while, I went back home almost as soon as I finished basic and we lived together. The thing about her is that… I don’t know, I guess she stayed the same no matter what while I’d changed so much. Felt that way, anyway. And I couldn’t help but feel that I’d disappointed her because of that, somehow. And then…” 

Xueer swallows around the lump in her throat. It only dawns on her now that she hasn’t actually talked about that, about Yuxin, like this in so long. It doesn’t hurt her as much as it used to but it still does sting. There’s still a dull ache in her chest when she talks about it.

“We grew up and grew apart, I guess,” she finally says, aware of just how much she’s oversimplifying it. It’s far, _far_ more complicated than that, of course. The truth is, she just didn’t want to keep lying to Yuxin anymore, but she also couldn’t bear the thought of Yuxin hating her for the things she does and the kind of person she’s become. Yuxin was always the same person she’d been, a pillar of stability and comfort in Xueer’s life, but Xueer… well, she’s not really the bright-eyed kid she used to be, and she’d long lost her innocence. “I broke things off with her in the end and as much as it hurt… I guess there was just something about it that felt inevitable too. I just knew we wouldn’t have made it anyway, no matter how hard we tried to make things work. At the time, I thought of it as me taking one for the team, doing the right thing, but sometimes… Sometimes I’m not sure. Nothing more I can do about it anymore, though. What’s done is done.”

It’s Jiaqi’s turn to ask, “Do you regret it?”

Xueer doesn’t answer, which in itself must already be an adequate enough answer, then Jiaqi surges forward and presses her lips against Xueer’s.

There’s a voice inside Xueer’s head that _screams_ at her to pull away, to walk away now before she makes any more mistakes, to put an _end_ to this, but she still kisses Jiaqi back despite all of that anyway, warmth starting to pool at the pit of her stomach, a pleasant buzz beneath her skin. Her heart skips a beat when Jiaqi traces her bottom lip with her tongue and her knees go weak when she feels Jiaqi cup her neck, pulling her in tighter, closer. Xueer lips part for Jiaqi’s tongue and suddenly that voice inside her head is silent, or at least it’s been drowned out by all of the other much louder thoughts that have come flooding in. She pulls Jiaqi even closer, so close that they could melt into each other, kisses her harder and for the first time, she allows herself to just—to just _want._ She wants more of this, more of Jiaqi, wants to touch her, feel her, wants _more_ , and—

Abruptly, reluctantly, Xueer pulls away and she says breathlessly, “Jiaqi, I—I’m sorry, but I… I can’t do this.” She doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to be the responsible one in this situation, but...

Jiaqi goes very still, her brows furrowed in confusion. Her lips are still so red and kiss-swollen, and it takes so much for Xueer to not just kiss her senseless again. Her resolve almost crumbles when Jiaqi reaches up to cup her cheek and brushes a thumb along the corner of her lip when she gently says, “What’s wrong? Hey, it’s okay, talk to me.”

“I…” Xueer’s voice trails off and everything comes crashing back on her. She’s not just Jiaqi’s bodyguard and this entire thing isn’t as simple as she wishes it could be. She’s not allowed to be like this with Jiaqi. Not allowed to feel the way she does about Jiaqi. Not allowed to _want_ Jiaqi like this. Feeling all torn up inside, she heaves a sigh and says, “Look, Jiaqi, we… We shouldn’t. I—I never should have—”

The ringing of Jiaqi’s phone—and Xueer knows it’s Jiaqi’s phone because of the ringtone—cuts Xueer off before she can even begin to organize her thoughts and string together a coherent sentence. 

They stare at each other awkwardly for a long, long moment, then Jiaqi pulls away first, clearing her throat before she mumbles, “I, uh... Excuse me for a moment.” She scurries off to the kitchen where she’d left her phone and leaves Xueer by herself in the living room, tormented and hopelessly confused.

Xueer’s brain is eerily quiet now. She expected her brain to spiral into absolute chaos now that she’s got time to think about what she’s done, but there’s just… nothing. Maybe her brain’s already screamed everything it had to scream at her earlier and now it’s just got nothing left to say, because what else is left to say anyway? The last bit of logic she had _told_ her to stop, told her to walk away before she made this situation any worse for herself, but she didn’t listen and now she’s got to live with the horrible, _horrible_ decision she’s made.

 _Way to go, Xueer_ , she berates herself. _Way to fucking go, you fucking genius._

What the _fuck_ is she supposed to do now? Xueer knows Jiaqi well enough to know that she isn’t going to just let this one go or gladly go along with pretending the kiss never happened. And why would she, when _she_ was the one who initiated it in the first place? Why would she tell Xueer about that girl she used to like, say they danced just like the way she and Xueer were dancing moments ago before she confessed to her, and then finally _kiss_ Xueer for _nothing?_ Xueer knows where Jiaqi is trying to go with this. Knows exactly what Jiaqi wants. Knows that even if there might be a small part of her that wants the same thing as Jiaqi, she can never _give_ that to Jiaqi. She can never be the person to give that to her. She’s not _allowed_ to be that, and she’s not allowed to _want_ to be.

Just as panic finally begins to set in, Xueer is snapped out of her thoughts when she hears Jiaqi say, “Look, Mom— _Mom—_ Just stay put, okay? I’ll… I’ll figure something out. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

Xueer frowns. The kiss—and literally every little thing she’s done and/or thought that’s led to that, really—is temporarily put on the back burner because she puts two and two together and assumes something must have happened to Jiaqi’s mom, and it’s got to be _really_ bad if Jiaqi’s in a rush to get to her, nevermind that Taizhou is about _four hours away_ from Shanghai. 

It’s that last part that Xueer is most concerned about. She walks over to Jiaqi to ask her what exactly is going on and to hopefully try to calm her down enough so she can talk some sense into her. Unfortunately, she’s not given the chance to get even a single word out of her mouth because as soon as she stops in front of Jiaqi, Jiaqi tells her, “We need to go to Taizhou. _Now._ ”

Xueer opens her mouth to speak, closes it again, then after a second of gathering her thoughts, she very, _very_ carefully replies, “We can’t be rash about this, Jiaqi.”

“ _Rash?”_ Jiaqi says, fuming, and Xueer thinks, _Uh-oh._ Now she’s _really_ made Jiaqi mad. Unlike last time, the fury doesn’t fizzle and fade away. In fact, Jiaqi seems to only look angrier and angrier at Xueer by the second. She puts a hell of a bite behind her words when she says, “My _mother’s_ life is in danger and you think I’m being _rash_ about it?”

Yep. She’s _really_ done it now.

It’s strange to think about how just a few minutes ago they were kissing each other and now they’re sort of fighting. Xueer knows they aren’t _really_ fighting but it still _feels_ like they are, and it’s… It’s fucking terrible. She’s suddenly reminded of how awful it would be to fight with Yuxin. Even the smallest of arguments would leave her feeling like absolutely fucking _awful_ for days. 

Xueer realizes she’s actually comparing what she has with Jiaqi to what she had with Jiaqi, in one way or another, but she has no time to dwell on _that_ right now. She takes a deep breath and says, “Look, Jiaqi, let’s just— Before we do anything, just… just tell me what happened, okay?”

Jiaqi doesn’t budge. She works her jaw angrily, hands balled into fists at her side, and it’s plain to see she’s trying her hardest to hold back her tears.

Xueer didn’t think it was possible for her to feel any _worse_ than she already feels, but it turns out she was wrong. She gets where Jiaqi is coming from, of course she does. She’d raise hell if anyone laid a finger on her family. She’d make them pay with their lives if she had to. She knows that that must be what Jiaqi is thinking right now too, and that’s also precisely why she has to talk some sense into her. She doesn’t want to do this and she feels absolutely terrible that she has to, but she could die literally as soon as she steps out of this building. She can’t have that happen for obvious reasons. Messed up as her head and her feelings might be, she’s still got a job to do, an obligation to the man she signed a contract with, and she can’t afford to be even more fucked if she lets Jiaqi have her way again and actually ends up dead this time.

“Jiaqi…” 

Xueer purses her lips as she tries to think of something, _anything_ , to say to Jiaqi that won’t just make her more frantic. She’s learned over the course of their time together that Jiaqi really doesn’t get mad easily or at all, even, and she knows that Jiaqi isn’t really mad at _her_. She knows that if there’s anyone Jiaqi is mad at right now, it’s herself, with all of the frustration that’s been chipping away at her over the past few days finally pushing her over the edge. 

Her heart aches for Jiaqi. 

She reaches out and takes Jiaqi’s hands into hers. Jiaqi’s eyes widen in surprise, all of her fury and frustration dissipating, and after a few seconds she uncurls her fists and lets Xueer intertwine their fingers. She blinks, still dazed like a deer caught in the headlights, then stares down at their hands. “Xueer…”

“I’m sorry,” Xueer says softly. “I didn’t mean to… to hurt you with what I said. Believe me, Jiaqi, I want to help you. I do. But you have to understand that I can’t just let you run off like this, not with everything that’s going on right now. Last time—” She gulps around the uncomfortable knot that’s formed in her throat. “Last time, you could have gotten hurt or could have even died because I—I wasn’t doing my job right. Mr. Gao got hurt because of that, and two of our men died because of that. I can’t let that happen again, and I especially can’t let that happen to _you._ I can’t—won’t—forgive myself if I make the same mistake and it ends up getting _you_ hurt next. So, Jiaqi, please listen to me when I say…” 

Xueer squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and takes in a deep breath. There’s no point arguing now.

“We can’t just rush there unarmed.”

Jiaqi is rightfully surprised. After all, just moments ago Xueer was trying to talk her out of going to Taizhou to be with her mom, but Xueer’s realized that there’s just no way she’s going to win this one. Upset and frightened as Jiaqi might be, it’s obvious that she won’t back down, no matter how much Xueer tells her it’s for her own safety and security. And even if Xueer did manage to convince her to just stay, she’d only end up feeling like a terrible human being for stopping Jiaqi from being with her mom at the time her mom needs her the most. God knows nothing could ever possibly stop her from rushing to her own family’s side if something bad happened to them too.The best she can do now is just compromise: give Jiaqi what she wants without making the mistake of going in there unprepared and outmanned. Xueer can and will still put up a fight if she has to but given the state she’s in, she’d rather avoid having to do all the work by herself.

“But before that,” Xueer continues slowly, “before we plan anything, I need you to tell me what happened, okay? I can’t come up with a plan without knowing _exactly_ what we’re dealing with.”

With the realization that Xueer is now actually willing to let her have her way sinking in, Jiaqi slips her hands out of Xueer’s grip and, after a moment of uncertainty, wraps her arms around herself in an attempt to calm herself down. She’s quiet at first, still gathering her thoughts, then she explains, “Some men broke into our house in Taizhou and she just barely got away. She told me that she noticed some men following her around in the days prior, but she didn’t want to think too much of it and she didn’t want to make me worry about it either. She only began to really worry when she noticed there were men lurking outside the house. And then, well…” Jiaqi purses her lips.

“Where is she now?” Xueer asks gently. 

“She’s at a friend’s place,” Jiaqi mumbles in reply. “She said she’ll be staying there until we... get things sorted out there, I guess.”

Xueer hums in response, all of the gears in her brain turning as she comes up with an action plan based on the information Jiaqi’s given her. There’s a chance that the men who broke into Jiaqi’s mom’s home are still there or will come back. To Xueer, it’s easy to understand why they did what they did: it’s the fastest way to get to Jiaqi. The fastest way to get her to step out of this building. The fastest way to get her to make a fatal mistake. She decides that they’ll need to send two teams ahead: one to head straight to where Jiaqi’s mom is staying right now, and another to check out and keep guard of the house in case those men come back. Now she just has to figure out how to get them from here to there fast…

“Okay,” Xueer tells Jiaqi, “here’s what I think we should do,” and she lays out everything she’d just thought of for Jiaqi. Jiaqi listens attentively, nodding here and there, and she suggests, “I know someone who can help us get to Taizhou fast and discreet. I just need to call him and we’ll be good to go.”

Xueer nods. “Go talk to him now,” she tells Jiaqi, “and I’ll talk to our guys about how we can sneak you out of here to the airport.” 

“Alright,” Jiaqi replies. She’s got her nerves under control now, which Xueer is relieved about, and it’s honestly just nice to not have to be the Jiaqi’s emotional punching bag right now. 

While Jiaqi is on the phone outside, Xueer coordinates the escape plan, so to speak, with their men. They’re taken aback at first, and one even asks if Xueer’s being serious, but when Xueer makes it very clear that no, she _is_ being serious and that this is what Jiaqi wants, they bolt down and come up with a pretty solid plan to sneak Jiaqi out under the Jus’ noses. 

Xueer doubts the Jus’ ever considered the possibility that Jiaqi would actually make it out of Shanghai if they’re so hellbent on killing her as soon as she steps out of this building, so if everything goes according to plan and they get Jiaqi out of here, then they’d have to adjust their plans and go after Jiaqi in Taizhou instead. Xueer’s confident, at least, that if the Jus’ men in Taizhou try anything, they’ll be better-prepared and better-equipped to respond and protect Jiaqi.

Jiaqi comes back inside a few minutes later and says, “Okay, my friend said he’ll have everything ready for us in an hour at least, and he said that he’ll sort out everything that needs to be sorted out at the airport.”

“We’re good to go here too,” Xueer informs Jiaqi, then she gives her a quick run-down of their plan for tonight and Jiaqi seems plenty satisfied with it. “Since our guys are heading out first, we should start packing whatever we need for the trip. You should get some rest too before we leave.”

“I’ll sleep when we get there,” Jiaqi says simply, and Xueer knows she means what she says. It really doesn’t look like Jiaqi will be able to rest or be at peace until she’s with her mom and sees for herself that her mom is okay. Xueer would probably feel that way too if she were in Jiaqi’s shoes. Now that they’ve got all of that out of the way, though, Jiaqi allows herself a moment of silence, then she says, “Thank you, Xueer, and I’m sorry about earlier. I know you didn’t mean it the way I was making it look like you did, but I never should have taken out all my… my frustration and anxiety on you. You were only looking out for me.”

“It’s okay,” Xueer tells Jiaqi as reassuringly as she can. She feels exhausted all of a sudden. Tonight’s been a rollercoaster of emotions, the worst and most confusing of which she hasn’t even sorted out yet. Not knowing _how_ to sort them out is probably the worst thing about it all too. 

Jiaqi purses her lips and stares down at the floor. She’s quiet again for a long, long time before she awkwardly starts, “Hey, uh… about earlier…”

Xueer actually did expect Jiaqi to bring _that_ up again now that things have winded down a little, but that didn’t mean she was ready to actually talk about it with Jiaqi. There’s way too much going on and she’s got way too much to think about, so the last thing she needs right now is to torment herself further over her decision to kiss Jiaqi. She’s got plenty of time for that later, but not _now._

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” Xueer says in the end, feeling every bit as awkward as Jiaqi right now. “I don’t want you to have to worry about… that— _us_ —when I know you’re worried about your mom too. We can just… we can sort this out later.”

“Okay,” Jiaqi says. 

Xueer waits for her to say something more, but she’s only met with heavy, contemplative silence. She decides that she’s more than fine with that. She’s too tired (mentally, emotionally) to do any more talking or thinking anyway, and it’s plain to see that Jiaqi feels that way too. 

Well, it’s like Xueer said: they can do all the talking they want later. For now, they can just keep each other company in this brief but welcomed moment of calm, giving their hearts and minds enough time to rest as they brace themselves for the long, _long_ day ahead.

* * *

Xueer towels her hair dry then stares at herself long and hard in the mirror. Just a few seconds into it and she starts feeling woozy, a burning and heavy sensation in her eyes, which means she _really_ needs to get some sleep soon. Going for days without sleep is nothing new to her and was even an essential part of her training during basic, but it’s been quite some time since she’s had to be on duty without any time for breaks or even just a catnap here and there, so the past couple of hours have really taken a toll on her. 

A wave of bone-deep exhaustion comes crashing on her and she scrubs a hand over her face, stopping to rub her tired eyes. _Just a few more hours_ , she tells herself, though it admittedly does nothing to make her feel any less exhausted. She hasn’t had a moment’s rest since they managed to get Jiaqi out of Shanghai and into Taizhou in record time, and she even considered just saving a bath for when they’re back in Shanghai already because she’s worried _something_ might happen while she’s not at Jiaqi’s side and while she has her guard down. Fortunately, they have more than enough of their men with them to cover for her while she gets cleaned up, so that’s why she’s here now. The time she spent under the warm spray of the shower was probably the only time she felt even remotely relaxed in the past few hours. 

After splashing water on her face a few times to help keep herself awake and alert, Xueer shoves her used clothes into a smaller bag that she then shoves into the bag she brought with her. She puts all of the medicine and unused bandages she brought with her back into the small compartment at the front of her bag, zips the bag shut, slings it over her left shoulder, and exits the bathroom. 

Xueer goes downstairs to the living room and leaves her bag on the couch that’s probably older than her and Jiaqi combined. Ms. Xu’s friend told her in passing that she grew up in this house just as her father and his father before him did. Her siblings all moved out, got married, and settled down elsewhere, but she decided to come back and stay with her ailing mother, her father having died a few years prior, so the story goes. She looks around the living room and can’t help but marvel at how it feels like time has stopped here, the house looking exactly the same as it did all those decades ago. It’s homey, that’s for sure, but the more she thinks about how much it hasn’t changed, the lonelier it starts to feel too for some reason.

Well, Xueer decides she’s not going to dwell on _that_ for much longer and heads for the kitchen to get something to eat. Ms. Xu’s friend had been kind enough to prepare some food for them before she left for work, but Xueer hasn’t tried out any of it yet, too on edge and too caught up in her thoughts to even remember to eat. But well into the afternoon already and she’s _really_ hungry now, so she’s able to put aside all of that other nonsense for now to just focus on putting food in her mouth and making sure her stomach doesn’t cave in on itself.

Honestly, she’s relieved there’s no one else in the kitchen now. Everyone else seems to have gotten their fill already, which works out for her in the end because she doesn’t quite feel like talking to anyone right now. Not that their men are particularly talkative with her, something funny that she’s noticed, and apart from the other members of Jiaqi’s security detail she isn’t really chummy with anyone else that’s with them now either. 

Xueer grabs a plate, piles an assortment of food on it, tosses it into the microwave and pours herself a cup of tea while she waits. She sighs contentedly after her first sip of the tea, welcoming the warmth that spreads all across her body. She takes another sip before taking her food out of the microwave, then she plops down on one of the chairs at the lone table in the kitchen and starts eating. She _could_ eat at the dining room but it would just feel too weird and intrusive for her.

Damn, it feels good to eat. She already feels more energetic and generally just more _alive_ again. All of her worries are momentarily forgotten too because all that matters to her now is the food she’s eating. In fact, she gets so caught up in that that she doesn’t notice when Jiaqi enters the kitchen, only realizing she’s there when Jiaqi jokes, “Hey, save some for me.”

Embarrassed, Xueer slows her chewing, swallows her food, and turns around in her seat to greet Jiaqi: “Hey.”

“Hey,” Jiaqi greets back, lips curling into a small smile. Xueer knows Jiaqi hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep since they got here—although it would be more accurate to say she _refused_ to get a wink of sleep—and it shows on her face. She appears significantly less anxious now though, at least. “Mind if I join you?”

Jiaqi wolfs down her food just as shamelessly as Xueer was wolfing down her own food a few minutes ago. That makes Xueer realize that Jiaqi hasn’t eaten anything at all either since they got here, refusing to leave her mom’s side in one of the rooms upstairs. Hell, this is actually the first time they’ve been alone with each other in the past few hours, let alone just the first time Xueer’s seen Jiaqi in the past few hours. 

When _that_ realization hits her, Xueer begins to feel incredibly self-conscious. They still haven’t found the time to _really_ talk about what happened between them the night before, what with everything going on now, but now that they’re alone with each other again, there’s a very real possibility that it’ll come up and they’ll have no choice but to talk about it. She doesn’t think she’ll _ever_ be prepared to have that conversation, and she’d honestly prefer not to talk about it here when they’ve got a lot of other people around them.

Well, whatever happens, happens, right? The unavoidable is unavoidable for a reason, so all Xueer can hope is that she sorts her shit out fast enough to be able to handle the consequences of her actions.

For now, she asks Jiaqi, “How’s your mom doing?”

Xueer hasn’t spoken much with Jiaqi’s mom, the only interaction they’ve had with each other being the brief greetings they exchanged when Jiaqi introduced them to each other, but she does quite like Ms. Xu. She looks a lot like Jiaqi and even _talks_ a lot like her, and she has all of Jiaqi’s warmth and kindness. That’s not surprising because she _is_ Jiaqi’s mom, after all, but it _is_ fascinating just how similar she and Jiaqi are. She thinks back to how the doctor said Jiaqi was so much like her parents and understands him better now.

Jiaqi freezes at first, her shoulders visibly tensing up, but she relaxes again after a few seconds and replies, “She’s doing alright, or at least much better than she was doing last night,” then she shoves some of her pork into her mouth. She takes her time chewing and then continues, “Maybe it’s just because I’ve been away from home for so long, but sometimes I forget just how tough she actually is.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Xueer quips, sounding way more flirtatious than she intended. All she really wanted to do was say something that would lighten the mood a little, not sound like… _that._

It’s too late for her to hope Jiaqi doesn’t take that as Xueer flirting with her because she teasingly replies, “I think I could get used to you showering me with compliments.”

Xueer’s face heats up. She clears her throat awkwardly and averts her eyes from Jiaqi, who’s got an all too pleased smile on her face. Picking at what’s left of her food, she mumbles, “I’m glad she’s alright, though.”

“Me too,” Jiaqi says, and then she’s quiet for a while. “I called Dad earlier to tell him what happened and that I’m with Mom now.”

Xueer looks back up at Jiaqi. “What’d he say?”

“That he was glad I didn’t tell him _before_ I left Shanghai otherwise he would have ran straight here too.” Jiaqi chuckles. “That was exactly why I didn’t call him until we got here. I know my dad well enough to know that he’d kill anyone who dared to hurt my mom, nevermind that he’s sick and can’t even get out of bed sometimes. They’ve got… a complicated relationship now and I think they’re way past the point of things going back to being like they used to be between them, but he still loves her.”

Xueer gives herself a moment to mull over that. “Have you told Mr. Yang that you’re here?”

“No,” Jiaqi says, smiling lopsidedly. “I feel a little bad about doing all of this behind his back, but knowing him, he probably would have stopped me from going here. Quite the opposite of how Dad would react. I’m sure he’s found out for himself already, though.”

 _I bet he has_ , Xueer thinks. He hasn’t called or messaged her at all since they left Shanghai, but she doesn’t need him to for her to know he mustn’t be very happy about her essentially taking Jiaqi’s side over his by letting her do this. He might even be waiting until they get back and they see each other face to face to let her know just how pissed off he is about this. Oh well. She’ll cross that bridge when she gets to it.

“I know this might not be the best time to talk about it,” Jiaqi suddenly says, and Xueer already knows where this is going, “but I just wanted to say that… about earlier—no, last night… I like you, Xueer, and quite a lot at that, so that kiss was no mistake or accident on my part, and I definitely don’t regret it.” 

There’s something both reassuring and terrifying about how straightforward Jiaqi is. Only Jiaqi would ever toss something like that out in the open like it’s nothing. _I like you_ , just like that, easy as you please. Then again, it’s probably not fair for Xueer to be making such a fuss out of it. After all, Jiaqi has _nothing_ to hide from Xueer and, more importantly, she’s not the _Xueer_ , who can’t afford to feel the way she does about Jiaqi and can’t afford to fuck this up because of the very real and dire consequences she’ll have to face. As far as whatever this is that they have going on between them is concerned, Jiaqi has nothing to lose and nothing to really worry about, unlike Xueer.

Of course, all of that just makes Xueer feel a billion times more miserable. When she finally manages to unstick her jaw, she blurts out before she can stop herself, “Do you confess to _everyone_ like that?”

Jiaqi blinks. “What do you mean?”

It takes Xueer a hot second to realize what she’d just said to Jiaqi. Shit. No going back now, though. “You know… Slow dance with them, and then just… hit them with the big one. Is that, like, your M.O.?” 

Jiaqi blinks again, and then she’s laughing. Xueer’s stomach does a funny flippy thing at the sight of that. “I must admit,” she tells Xueer, “that really wasn’t very original of me. It’s just… When you told me about how you were a dancer too, it got me thinking about that girl I told you about, and from there I just, for some reason, thought it’d be a good idea to ask you to dance with me and all that. Then—yeah.”

It’s unfair how endearing Jiaqi is, and it’s unfair how _one_ kiss has Xueer melting at every little thing Jiaqi says and does now. With a small smile, she teases, “If it makes you feel any better, that wasn’t the worst way anyone’s ever confessed to me. Far from it, really.”

Jiaqi might not have actually _told_ Xueer that she likes her, but there’s no arguing that a kiss gets the message across just as, if not more, effectively. If anything, Jiaqi kissing Xueer just lines up with how direct and how forward she is. As far as confessions go, that was as perfect as it could get coming from someone like Jiaqi.

“Thank god,” Jiaqi sighs in relief, and though she does this jokingly, she also sounds genuinely glad that she didn’t make a fool of herself. “I don’t know how I’d ever live with myself if I fucked that one up.”

Xueer tries to think of what to say to Jiaqi, but she keeps coming up short. She knows Jiaqi won’t pressure her into confessing her feelings back or anything like that, but that also kind of just… puts her in an awkward spot. What _can_ or _should_ she say, then? And how can she possibly condense everything she’s been bottling up into just a few sentences? There’s just way too much going on in her head and in her heart for her to lay herself bare in front of Jiaqi. Things aren’t and never will be simple for Xueer the way they are for Jiaqi. 

Still, none of that changes the fact that Xueer likes Jiaqi too. She likes her so much that she feels even more like the worst person who’s ever lived because she knows she doesn’t have any right to like Jiaqi like that, to want the things Jiaqi wants for them too. 

“Why last night, though?” Xueer asks Jiaqi, deciding to just get that out of the way now that they’re talking about it. 

Jiaqi shrugs. “I don’t know, really. I guess getting to talk to someone about all of the things I’ve been keeping to myself actually gave me the opportunity to process those things, and from there I accepted that I really would have to do something about all of this soon, and I don’t know just how messy things will get but I watched you get shot, and I can’t keep you safe with me forever, right? I guess it was just one of those ‘if not now, then when’, spur of the moment decisions, but deep down I also felt it was just the right thing to do.”

They’re quiet again for a while, then Jiaqi says, “That’s all I really wanted to tell you. I wasn’t sure if we’d get the chance to really sit down and talk things out when we get back to Shanghai, so I just wanted to tell you _that_ at least.” She smiles gently and adds, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, and I don’t want to make you feel like you have to… Although, I guess I should have thought of _that_ before I started running my mouth.”

“It’s fine,” Xueer replies, averting her eyes again. 

Everything Jiaqi has told her and this… almost _fixation_ she has with things left unsaid is making Xueer think that there’s something Jiaqi isn’t actually telling her, or like she’s got _something_ brewing. Why else would she be putting so much emphasis on how she’s worried they might not have enough time to tell each other what they need to tell each other, right? 

She knows Jiaqi really won’t make or pressure her into talking about… well, any of this if she doesn’t want to or isn’t ready to, but it also just doesn’t feel right to not say anything at all after everything Jiaqi has told her. It might just be because the whole ‘things left unsaid’ thing is starting to get to her because of how much Jiaqi’s been going on about it these past few hours, but...

“I’ll be honest with you, Jiaqi,” Xueer says, forcing the words out of her mouth before she chickens out and runs straight out of the room, “I… I don’t even really know where to start about how I—how you make me feel. I don’t even know how to begin to make sense of any of that because it’s just… It’s _a lot_ , and it’s all so complicated and confusing but what I do know is...” The absurdity of this moment and of everything she’s telling Jiaqi almost makes her laugh. It’s even crazier thinking about how she’s actually being honest with Jiaqi this time and that she isn’t just making this shit up as she goes. None of this is made-up at all, and she doesn’t even know how she could possibly make up all of the things she feels about Jiaqi anyway. Resigned and tired and honestly delirious, she smiles crookedly when she says, “You make it hard for me to be objective.”

Jiaqi’s eyes widen in surprise but she doesn’t get to say anything in response because they hear footsteps approaching the kitchen. Xueer supposes she’s glad for that; at least this way, she won’t have to deal with Jiaqi’s questions, because she’s a hundred percent sure Jiaqi _will_ have questions. Besides, it’s not like she’ll be able to give Jiaqi a simple enough answer to any questions she might ask, the foremost question obviously being about what the fuck she meant when she said what she said. Xueer’s gotten used to living a fairly complicated life but this job and Jiaqi have made her life exponentially more complicated than her brain can begin to comprehend. _That_ , she’s not sure she can ever get used to.

Xueer gets up first and begins cleaning up. “Go on ahead,” she tells Jiaqi after Jiaqi insists on staying to help her with the dishes, “Leave these to me. Go be with your mom.”

That last bit does the trick. Jiaqi sighs and says, “Okay,” then she smiles politely at the men who enter the kitchen. They stop in their tracks, eyes bouncing back and forth between Xueer and Jiaqi, but when neither women tell them to fuck off, they relax and greet Jiaqi. While they busy themselves with picking what they want to eat, Jiaqi mumbles to Xueer, “At least let me bring my own dishes to the sink,” and Xueer just relents. 

After leaving her dishes in the sink, Jiaqi asks Xueer more formally, “What time are we leaving again?”

Xueer checks the time on the wall clock and replies, “In about an hour. We should leave before it gets dark.” It’s weird to speak to Jiaqi so rigidly after having such an intimate conversation, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel self-conscious right now. She never used to feel awkward about being with Jiaqi when other people were around them, but now she just can’t help but feel like they’re all watching her. Like they’re all in on her and Jiaqi’s secret even when they’re all obviously very much _not._

Jiaqi nods. “I’ll see you later, then,” she says, then she discreetly reaches down for Xueer’s hand and gives it a light squeeze, letting it linger in her hand for a few seconds before she turns and leaves. 

Xueer stares down at her hand for a while, barely able to hold herself back from feeling even just a little giddy, then she shakes her head as if to shake off those feelings and puts all of her focus on cleaning the dishes. She casts a sideways glance at the men gathered at the table and finds them throwing curious glances at her, only ducking their heads when they realize she’s caught them. Face burning, Xueer looks away from them and furiously scrubs the plate in her hands.

By the time they arrive at Shanghai, Xueer feels like she could pass out. She’s so tired that she doesn’t even have it in her to feel hungry. All she wants to do is go straight to her room and crash on her bed. If not for her wound, she would probably just sleep right away because she doesn’t have enough energy left for a shower. Her entire body feels so _heavy_ , and every step she takes feels like she’s dragging herself through mud or trying to fight her way out of quicksand. She tries not to bitch too much about it, though, because at least she got to go home. Their other men have no choice but to stay in Taizhou to keep guard over Jiaqi’s mom until Jiaqi tells them it’s fine and they can head back to Shanghai.

Q-Mi sprints towards them as soon as the elevator doors open. She leaps into Jiaqi’s arms and Jiaqi holds her close, nuzzling her face into Q-Mi’s fur. Q-Mi mewls and meows happily, every bit relieved as Jiaqi and Xueer are about them finally being home. When Jiaqi sets her back down on the floor, she goes over to Xueer and gets her fill of pets and cuddles from her too. By the time Xueer’s done cuddling Q-Mi she feels significantly better.

When Q-Mi wanders off again, Jiaqi drags herself to the couch and lies down on it, propping her head on one of the pillows and putting her arm over her eyes to block out the light. Xueer stands by and observes her for a while, watching the rise and fall of Jiaqi’s chest, but she knows that Jiaqi isn’t actually asleep yet. 

Xueer knows she should just leave Jiaqi be and get some rest too, but she finds herself rooted to where she stands. She already knows that there’s no way for this to end well for her because every time she finds herself in a spot like this, she just does or says something that makes her relationship with Jiaqi more confusing and makes this job harder for her to do. At this point, she just feels sick thinking about how she _has_ to kill Jiaqi _or else._ She’s already acknowledged that she doesn’t want to, but her acknowledging and accepting that she feels something _more_ for Jiaqi really isn’t helping her case. If anything, it’s just complicated things further for her.

She’s not sure if it’s the bone-deep exhaustion or her insanely confusing but intense emotions that’s temporarily taken full control over her brain, but she thinks about Mr. Yang’s plans now that everything has gone to absolute shit for him. She’s especially bothered now by what he said about how he could make Jiaqi a pawn in this game of his, persuading her to bring the fight to the Jus and making her think that’s the right course of action before killing her. She knows that that must be what the Jus are waiting for too. Now that they’ve gone after Jiaqi’s mom, they’ve made things _personal,_ and there’s just no way Jiaqi isn’t going to do something about that. There’s also no way that Jiaqi isn’t going to respond to their actions in a peaceful manner. She’s her father’s daughter, after all, and she knows that Jiaqi will likely do what her father would do, and things are going to get messy.

Mr. Yang will definitely have a much easier time convincing Jiaqi to go to war with the Jus. He might not have told her anything, but Xueer is fairly sure that the re-negotiations with the Jus, the grandson especially, didn’t go so well and that’s why they gave fuck-all about crossing the line by coming after Jiaqi’s mom. Both sides want war and it’s not so hard to see why. With a full-blown war going on, Mr. Yang and the Jus will have the perfect opportunity to go after each other and everything else going on around them will be the perfect distraction. No matter what situation plays out, Jiaqi is and always will be nothing more than a pawn in their game, and one they are more than glad to dispose of once she’s outlived her usefulness.

Xueer feels anger bubbling up inside of her. She’s had enough time to mull over it and she’s certain now that Jiaqi does want to go after the Jus and make them pay for what they did. What makes her angry, though, is that she knows Mr. Yang will use all of Jiaqi’s frustrations and fears to manipulate her into making some terrible and fatal decisions, all of which will ultimately lead her to her own death—her death by Xueer’s hands, no less. As horrible as she feels about her role in all of this, she thinks about how Jiaqi would feel once she finds out she was just a puppet all along and Mr. Yang was the one pulling the strings, and that no choice she’s ever made was ever entirely her own. 

It’s a terrible thing to think, but if Jiaqi is going to start a war, then it has to be on _her_ terms. She understands now that everything Jiaqi told her last night by the pool was her way of telling Xueer that she’s finally accepted her fate. 

She’s already crossed the point of no return.

“You asked me last night if it was hard for me to adjust to my new life after I gave up on my dreams of being a dancer,” Xueer says slowly, her heart pounding in her ears. Jiaqi continues to lie still on the couch, but after a few seconds she sits back up and locks her eyes on Xueer. Xueer gulps and continues, “All the training, the physical stuff… Like I said, those weren’t too difficult to get used to. But… I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Things that keep me up at night, even up to now. I’ve done things that I never thought I’d have to do and never even thought I was capable of doing just because I needed the money. I was never a very good soldier—at least I never thought I was—so I had to… find other things I could do with the things I knew how to do.

“That… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to, and I don’t _want_ to, even if it’ll make it easier for me to accept some of the things I’ve done and some of the things I have to do. I’ve accepted that this is my reality now but that doesn’t make things any easier. That doesn’t make me enjoy killing.”

Xueer stops there to gauge Jiaqi’s reaction to everything she’d just said. Jiaqi’s face is even and impassive, with not a hint of judgement or disgust to be found. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised that _Jiaqi_ isn’t surprised by any of this. You don’t become the bodyguard to one of the most high profile figures in the dark underbelly of Shanghai without having an equally dark track record, after all. Jiaqi knows this, of course, and probably already expected Mr. Yang to pick someone who would not only be adept at keeping her safe, but would also be able to do the dirty work for her without hesitation.

“I will only kill if I have to,” Xueer says slowly and deliberately, her heart now roaring in her ears. There’s a voice inside her head that tells her to stop now, that what she’s about to do is stupid, but she can’t hear it over the beating of her heart. 

In the end, all Xueer is, has ever been, and ever will be is a loaded gun, always waiting for something to destroy—and she’s in Jiaqi’s hands now. All that’s left for Jiaqi to do is to squeeze the trigger. 

“And I will only kill if you ask me to.”

* * *

Xueer checks her hair in the mirror to make sure there isn’t a single strand out of place which, in the grand scheme of things, is entirely unnecessary, trivial and frivolous. What her hair looks like tonight won’t matter _at all,_ but fiddling with her hair gives her something to busy herself with, gives her hands something to do, which at least helps her manage the restlessness she’s been feeling.

When she’s satisfied with her ponytail, Xueer folds her discarded clothes, shoves them inside her duffel bag, then zips the bag shut. She steps back far enough so she can see more of herself in the mirror and gives herself a once-over. She’s wearing black from head-to-toe, from the long-sleeved combat shirt she’s wearing to her pants all the way down to her boots. After zipping her shirt’s collar all the way up, she puts on her ballistic vest, wincing when she feels a sharp stab of pain in her chest when she lifts her arms over her head, then she fastens her holster around her thigh. When everything’s in place, she places her spare magazines into the pouches on her vest and slips her gun into the holster after loading it. She gives herself a once-over in the mirror again.

She looks anything _but_ inconspicuous, but she’s not going for inconspicuous anyway, at least not tonight. In fact, this is the first time in all of her years as a hired gun that she’s actually _allowed_ to make a scene and be seen. That’s the entire point.

When Xueer exits the bathroom, her men are still preparing the guns they’ll be bringing with them. Xueer told Jiaqi she didn’t really need to bring a team with her, but Jiaqi insisted she should have back-up anyway, just in case, and in the end Xueer found no reason to argue against it. Besides, the last thing she wants to do after a long and exhausting night is drive herself back home. She’s not sure if she’ll have any energy left to even just turn the steering wheel. 

One of her men glances down briefly at the pistol holstered at her thigh and asks her, “Is that all you’re bringing?”

“It’s all I need,” Xueer replies simply. One of the knives lying around on the table catches her eye so she plucks it and slips it into her pocket. Never walk into a fistfight unarmed, someone once said to her. “You guys ready?”

The drive is a quiet one. Xueer doesn’t mind that at all because she’s really not in the mood to talk anyway. She’s still restless—the most restless she’s ever been, in fact—and despite her best efforts to not think about everything that’s led to tonight and to her being here, it’s still all she can think about. 

_I will only kill if I have to… And I will only kill if you ask me to._

All Xueer is is a loaded gun. That’s all she is, has been, and ever will be. It’s all she’s been good at and been good for ever since she chose this life for herself. She’d long accepted what she was and what she’d become, but it still never feels _nice_ to think about those things. Acceptance doesn’t mean she’s _proud_ of the things she’s done or the person she’s become. She told Jiaqi as much. 

But it’s a little different now. It’s different because she’s not doing this for just anybody now. She’s doing this for Jiaqi. When she told Jiaqi she would kill for her if Jiaqi asked her to, what she was really trying to do was let Jiaqi know she’s _allowed_ to ask that of Xueer and that she’s allowed to _use_ Xueer. What good is having a gun if you don’t—or _can’t_ —us it when you have to, right?

Xueer tells herself that she’s doing this because she wants to take matters into her own hands for once instead of just sitting around watching all the mind games between Mr. Yang and the Jus, but deep down, she knows that’s not why she’s doing this at all. Deep down, she knows that this is the only way she can possibly help take away some of Jiaqi’s burden. Jiaqi might not be too happy about having to ask Xueer to do this for her, but Xueer _wants_ to do this for her. Jiaqi might not ever be the person who pulls the trigger on someone, but that’s okay. That’s what someone like Xueer is for. She knows she can carry the weight of their sins for the both of them.

It’s terrifying to think about. It’s terrifying to admit that that’s why she’s really doing this and not because she knows this will speed things up and make things go according to Mr. Yang’s plan and then she can finally just get this job done with. Now more than ever, Xueer knows she doesn’t have it in her to actually kill Jiaqi, not after everything that’s happened between them and not after all the things they’ve shared with each other. No matter how hard she tries to be objective or practical about this, about _Jiaqi,_ she won’t be able to kill her.

Xueer wonders just how horrible of a person she must really be for her to be punished like this. And (unfortunately) Xiaotang’s right: it _is_ as cliché as it gets. It’s cliché and terrible and almost makes perfect sense because who _else_ would the universe have Xueer fall for if not the person she’s supposed to kill? The first time she’s felt like this for anyone since Yuxin, and it just had to be _Jiaqi_.

They pull up a few meters away from the club. Xueer quietly observes the long line of people waiting outside to be let in. The bouncers at the entrance have their hands full dealing with a group of men, all presumably drunk out of their wits already and seem to be demanding to be let in. 

“Are you sure you don’t want us to go in with you?” One of her men, the guy behind the steering wheel, asks her.

“I’ll be fine,” Xueer replies, moving to unbuckle her seatbelt, but when she catches the look on his face and on everyone else’s faces in the rearview mirror, she stops to look around at all of them and asks, “What? Why’re you all looking at me like that?”

In turn, the boys all look at each other. At first it seems like no one’s going to say anything, but the guy behind the wheel says, “It’s not that we don’t think you can handle things on your own. It’s just that…” He smiles crookedly. He looks both apologetic and amused despite himself. “We gotta make sure you come home in one piece. You’re Ms. Xu’s favorite, after all.”

Xueer blinks. _Ms. Xu’s favorite,_ he said. Jiaqi’s _favorite_ . She knows this is the worst and most inappropriate time to suddenly feel both giddy and self-conscious, but she can’t help herself. Giddy because while she never had a doubt in her mind that she ranked higher than the others like her in the organization just by virtue of being Jiaqi’s bodyguard and right-hand woman, it’s still different to be called someone’s _favorite_ . Self-conscious because she’s only realized now that everyone else has _definitely_ noticed the shift in her and Jiaqi’s relationship, even if they might not know how exactly it might have shifted or what the exact nature of their relationship really is now. Point is, they _have_ been watching and Xueer feels stupid for not noticing until now… but then again, she’s had a _lot_ to deal with with Jiaqi alone, so she’s had very little attention to spare for anyone else.

Forcing herself to move again, Xueer unbuckles her seatbelt and stiffly says, “Stay here and keep the engine running. I won’t be long,” then she steps out of the car. With her heart pounding and roaring in her ears, she makes her way towards the entrance of the club.

No one notices Xueer at first, her clothes allowing her to blend into the night almost perfectly. Everyone in line is on their phones or busy talking to each other while the bouncers at the entrance still have their hands full with the group of drunk me trying to force their way in.

[ _Thump, thump. Thump, thump_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7gRpIKfSCM) _,_ goes Xueer’s heart, beating low, slow and steady, but all at once hard and persistent, as if it were trying to break out of her ribcage.

The men are yelling now and one of them even shoves one of the bouncers by his shoulder. The people at the very front of the line, the ones nearest to all of the commotion, jump back in surprise. When one of the bouncers restrains the man who’d shoved his companion, the man’s friends jump in and there’re fists flying, arms flailing, shrieks from the bystanders. 

_Thump, thump. Thump, thump._

Xueer is close enough now that she can begin to feel the bass of the music playing inside the club shake through her insides. The incredibly loud music from inside the club and all of the commotion outside the club fill her ears melt into each other and drown out her thoughts and the beating of her heart. 

_Thump, thump. Thump, thump._

For a moment, she feels dizzy. Her senses feel overloaded to the point of short-circuiting, her skin feels too tight and too uncomfortable, the air in her lungs is paper-thin, and everything around her is so sharp and clear it hurts her eyes but also so out of focus at the same time. Every step she takes sends a shockwave throughout her body, shaking her insides like the bass from the music. 

_Thump, thump. Thump, thump._

This isn’t an unfamiliar feeling. 

_Thump, thump. Thump, thump._

It’s the storm before the calm.

_Thump… thump._

With her left hand, Xueer reaches out and holds one of the drunk men by his shoulder and as he turns around, startled at first and then seemingly ready to pick a fight with _her_ next, she reaches down for her gun with her right hand, shoves the man away—

_Thump… thump._

—and then—

 **_BANG-BANG_ ** **.**

Two shots to the head of the bouncer nearest to Xueer, a sprinkle of blood and brains on her face, terrified screams from the people all around her, all of whom are now running away as fast as they can, the drunk men included, and then another five shots in quick succession: one for the other bouncer at the entrance, and the other four for the security personnel the (now-dead) bouncers called over to help them deal with the group of drunk men. They fall to the ground, limp and lifeless and like dominos, clearing a path for Xueer.

Xueer looks at the bodies around her, takes a deep breath, exhales slowly through her nose, then makes her way inside. 

The two guards posted by the door that connects the reception area to the club proper don’t draw their guns fast enough and fall to the ground in the blink of an eye, Xueer taking them down with two shots each. The receptionist screams and scrambles for her radio to warn the men inside about Xueer and about what’s happening, but Xueer pays her no attention. She calmly strolls right into the club, reloading her gun as she walks.

The music is, unsurprisingly, even louder inside than it was outside, the bass so strong and so heavy it almost feels like it could crack her skull open and tear Xueer’s insides apart. It’s packed like a can of sardines too and Xueer has to squeeze her way through all the sweaty, sticky bodies on the dance floor, holding her gun close to her chest. Everyone’s too high, drunk, or a mix of both and too lost in the music to notice she’s got a gun on her or just care at all. 

Despite the low visibility and blinding neon strobe lights, Xueer still manages to spot them just fine: the Jus’ men, each in groups of threes, approaching her from every perceivable direction, and at the second floor in the private area that overlooks the dance floor is the man himself, Jingyi’s infamous brother. He’s surrounded by a group of women, with one of them sitting right on his lap, giggling as he probably promises to give her the world or whatever else it is shitbags like him say. He’s all smiles until one of his bodyguards bends down behind him to whisper something in his ear, then he’s not smiling anymore. He pushes the girl on his lap off of him and gets up to scan the dance floor for Xueer—and then their eyes meet. 

Xueer holds his gaze and watches his lips curl into a dark, amused but somewhat disbelieving smile. He knows who she is, of course. 

Xueer snaps her eyes away from him when one of his men charges towards her from right in front of her, shoving and knocking people aside, his hand already moving to draw his gun. When he’s within arm’s reach, she shoots him once in the thigh then she shoots him once in the head as he tumbles down to the floor. She shoots down his companions next, getting rid of the guy nearest to her first with two shots and then dealing with the guy following close behind him, with two shots to his chest, the force behind the bullets knocking him back a bit, and then she shoots him in the head. She steps around their limp bodies and presses on forward, hearing shocked and confused shrieks behind her when the bystanders realize those are, in fact, dead bodies on the floor and not just passed out drunks. 

Another group of men approach her from her right. Xueer blocks the first of them to rush towards her by slamming her forearm against his chest, curling her fingers around his suit jacket, and firing twice into his stomach before she lets him drop to the ground and takes down the man following right behind him with a head shot. 

She aims her gun at the last man standing and squeezes the trigger but no bullet is fired. _Shit_ , she thinks, and with her eyes still on the man before her, she attempts to put some distance between the two of them while she reaches for a fresh magazine to slot into her gun. It’s a futile attempt in the end, however, because he grabs her right arm with both of his hands and almost manages to disarm her gun. She drops the magazine in her left hand and turns her body around so she drags him with her, then she grabs his right arm with her left hand, pulls him closer, and smashes her gun into his face one, two, three times, hard enough for her to hear the sickening crunch of cartilage and bone through the deafening music. When he stumbles backwards, she quickly grabs another magazine, slots it into her gun, then shoots him in the head. 

Just as Xueer turns to the left to make her way up the staircase leading to the second floor of the club, another man, this time significantly bigger than the rest, comes at her swinging, a knife in his hand, and Xueer just barely manages to dodge it. She ducks and takes a step back to put some distance between herself and the man, but he’s coming at her again, swinging his knife around without a care about the innocent bystanders who are also too preoccupied to realize what’s going on. 

Xueer continues to dodge his attacks while she waits for the perfect opportunity to grab his hand and finish him off, pushing and shoving people aside so they don’t accidentally get their head chopped off or anything like that. She knows he’s beginning to gas out when his movements become sloppier, slower, and when he tries to swing at her head again, she blocks his arm with her own, grabs him by the sleeve of his jacket and pulls him in a downward motion to throw him off balance. It’s a lot easier said than done because he _is_ much bigger than she is, but that also means he falls much faster. As she maneuvers her body around him as she throws him off his feet, she shoots him three times in the head—you know: just to be sure—and leaves him lying in a puddle of his own blood and scattered brains. 

It doesn’t end there, of course. As Xueer makes her way towards the stairs again, the big guy’s companions block her way and fire at her without hesitation. The low visibility and all the people pressing and bumping into them on the dancefloor work in Xueer’s favor because they only end up hitting her along her torso and at least this time she’s got a much better and much stronger ballistic vest on. She still feels the way every bullet slams into her chest, though, and the impact from the bullets knocks her down flat on her back. The people around her leap back in surprise and when they see the two men armed with guns, they run for their lives.

Wincing—there’ll _definitely_ be bruises where the bullets slammed into her—Xueer pushes herself up and aims her gun at the two men. She manages to shoot one of them in the chest and then his head and he falls to the ground and she’s about to shoot the other guy down but makes a change of plans when she sees more of the Jus’ men behind him rushing down the stairs from the second floor. She shoots the guy in front of her twice in the chest, just enough to startle him and knock him backwards, then she scrambles to get up on her feet and runs towards the bar a few feet away from the staircase, keeping her head and body low so that she blends into the crowd.

Xueer ducks behind the side of the bar and allows herself a moment to wince and grimace through the pain that’s throbbing through her body and in her chest, especially. She has no way to check if her wound’s fucked up again, though the sharp pain she’s feeling now must mean that it’s _getting_ fucked up. Getting shot again really isn’t helping her right now either. When sets aside all of _that_ again and focuses on what she has to do next. She presses the magazine release and checks how many bullets she has left before she has to change magazine again. She slaps the magazine back into her pistol. The long and short of it is that she’s only got one spare magazine left and that’s nowhere near enough to help her get rid of everyone coming for her now. Oh well. She’ll just have to borrow a gun or two if she has to.

She sticks her head out just enough so she can see where the men chasing her are now. It’s her lucky day because they’ve momentarily got their hands full managing the frenzied and terrified crowd, overly inebriated people running around like headless chicken while bottlenecks form at the only exits in the room. Okay, that buys her some time and at least now she won’t have to worry about any innocent bystanders getting caught in the crossfires. 

Speaking of innocent bystanders—

Xueer finally notices the bartender curled into an almost fetal position while hiding behind the bar, covering her head with her hands. To say she’s visibly shaking would be quite the understatement. Xueer can almost hear the way her bones rattle from how badly she’s shaking and her shirt is soaked through with sweat. Poor girl.

Xueer sticks her head out again to see if the men still have their hands tied—they do not, or not anymore anyway, shoving aside the people pestering and running into them—then she spares a second to tell the bartender, “You should get out of here too.”

The bartender is too stunned to say anything at first, but once she gathers herself, she stammers, “H-how— They’re— _You—_ ”

“I know,” Xueer replies. The men are close enough now for her to pull her surprise attack and then clear a path for herself. “Here’s what you need to do: the moment I jump that guy at the front, make a run for it. Got it?”

“I—Y-yes,” the bartender says, gulping too loudly. “Okay.”

Xueer nods to herself, mumbles, “Good,” then she leaps out from where she’d been hiding, grabbing onto both of the leader of the pack’s hands to keep the gun away from herself and from her peripheral she sees the bartender make a run for it like she’d instructed her to do. _Good_ , Xueer thinks again, then she wraps her right arm around the man’s, sticks her right leg in front of his left leg, and flips him to the ground. She ends up going down with him but she props herself up to her knees fast enough and shoots him twice in the head before turning around to fire at his companions. She takes down three of them before she has to reload her gun.

Except she decides she can do that later. For now, she lunges towards the last two men standing, just barely dodging the bullets that zip past her, and she slams into one of them with her shoulder, knocking him down hard. She lets her body follow his body as it falls, but unlike him, she doesn’t fall to the floor with a loud and very painful-sounding thud because she rolls over him and back onto her feet, then she breaks into a drop-dead sprint up the stairs, changing magazines while she’s at it.

Xueer shoots down the men standing guard by the stairs, the first line of defense for the second floor, then she turns around quickly to fire four shots at the other two who’ve begun to chase her up the stairs. They fall to the ground and Xueer presses forward. 

She pushes aside the people scrambling to go down the stairs then takes down the two men who are running towards her, then she’s out of bullets. She slips her own gun back into its holster and bends down to pluck one of the men’s guns from the floor. He won’t be needing it anymore anyway.

The closer she gets to Jingyi’s brother, the more of his men she has to deal with, but the odd thing about it all is that he’s not even attempting to run away. She can still see him in his private but not-really-quite-private area and she knows he’s watching her. It’s pretty cruel of him to make his men risk their lives for him like this when he clearly has no plan to get out of here like they must have advised him to. She figures he must find this entertaining.

It’s a tangle of limbs and fists and Xueer swapped out guns twice in the process of kicking, punching, throwing, and shooting her way through the last line of defense. She’s starting to feel winded now and she feels every muscle in her body burning and aching. The throbbing from her wound has also gotten worse and she has to stop herself from wincing and grimacing every time she has to move around her right arm too much. _Well, that’s what painkillers are for_ , she supposes, and forces herself to fight through the pain.

Xueer throws a front kick at the guy who lunges towards her, effectively sending him hurtling backwards and creating an opening for her to shoot him down: three shots to his chest and one to his head, then he’s lying dead on the floor. Another one comes swinging at her with his fists, foregoing his gun because they’ve got so little space to move around and operate in now, so she ducks when he tries to throw a punch at her, jams her elbows into his chest as hard as she can without letting go of her gun, then when there’s enough space between them she shoots up his chest and finishes him off with a head shot. 

Chest heaving, Xueer looks around at the dead bodies lying by her floor, her boots now soaked in their blood puddling on the floor, then she tosses aside the gun she’d been using. That’s the last of them.

Xueer finds Jingyi’s brother still lounging on his throne-like couch in the private area which is only separated from everything else around him by silky curtains. It’s not hard to see why he likes this spot: he’s above everyone else… literally—the king or god of this corner of this little corner of Shanghai. Nonchalantly, he sips on his very expensive champagne as if he didn’t just watch Xueer kill every single one of his men in the building. It’s cruel— _he’s_ cruel—but Xueer supposes she shouldn’t have expected anything less from him.

“So,” he says, setting aside his champagne and turning his head to look directly at Xueer, “which one of them sent you?”

Xueer doesn’t say anything. Instead, she walks over to the railing and leans against it, staring out at the now mostly-empty club and surveying the mess she’s made on the dancefloor. The throbbing from her wound has dulled down a little, which is obviously a good thing, but that’s still not enough for her to say for sure that she didn’t completely fuck it up.

“Well,” he continues with a bored and extravagant sigh, “I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I’m sure the old man allowed you to make a mess here to send me a message—whatever that message might be.”

Still, Xueer doesn’t say anything. She continues to stare out at the dancefloor, thinking of nothing much at all. She welcomes the silence for now; it’s not often her mind is quiet like this, or at least it hasn’t been that way since she took on this job and got tangled up with Jiaqi. 

She hears Jingyi’s brother get up from the couch and walk towards her. He stops just a few inches from her and leans against the railing too. He stares out at the dancefloor as well, scoffing as he gets an eyeful of the mess Xueer’s left in her wake. He turns to her and says, “I’m impressed. See, I read your files—the old man showed them to me, naturally, being his _business partner_ and all—but I didn’t think you were _this_ … capable.”

Xueer stops herself from frowning and continues to keep her mouth shut for now. She realizes this is his way of _flirting_ with her, though she really doesn’t know why he thinks giving her a backhanded compliment and borderline insulting her is the way to go about it. She doesn’t know why he thinks she’s interested in him _at all_ , either

He sighs again and chuckles. “You’re really not much one for words, are you?” he says. “Oh, well. That’s fine, and I suppose that’s why the old man picked you. He’s not a very talkative guy either—which you know quite well, I’m sure—so I doubt he’d want to hire someone who runs their mouth too much, you know? Just get in there and get the job done, that’s the kind of person he is and that’s the kind of person he’s looking for. I can’t imagine he’s much fun to work for, though.

“So, Ms. Kong,” Jingyi’s brother says, properly addressing her for the first time since this conversation (if it can even be called that) started, which must mean he’s about to talk about something serious, “because you’ve thoroughly entertained me tonight, I’ll quit beating around the bush and tell you this: my grandfather and I have no intentions of… patching things up, so to speak, with Mr. Yang. In fact, I think we made that very clear when we last met with him, so all of this, sending _you_ here for god knows what reason… it’s all useless. Pointless. And to be completely honest with you, we always planned to flip on him anyway, and we know he’s just been waiting to flip on us too. It’s nothing personal, believe me. That’s just how things are here and we all walked into this knowing that. Still, we’re not going to let him beat us to it, of course. So we just… went ahead and did what we had to do, you know?”

 _So he met up with them after all_ , Xueer thinks. “The ambush,” Xueer says, her voice sounding so strange to her own ears after being quiet for so long.

Jingyi’s brother raises a brow, a smile always playing on his lips, and cheekily replies, “Sorry about that, by the way. No hard feelings?”

Xueer presses her lips into a thin line. She’s got nothing nice or polite to say anyway.

“Well, there’s no going back now,” Jingyi’s brother continues. “Jiaqi—or Mr. Yang, really—has finally decided to declare war against me and my family. All according to plan, actually. I’m sure you know that the plan was to break Jiaqi just enough to finally make her want to make the very fatal mistake of going to war against us to save face. We’ve done a decent enough job of that, don’t you agree? I mean, you’re here now, after all.”

Xueer taps her fingers against the railing. She feels all of the frustration she’s felt over the past few weeks beginning to bubble under her skin like lava. She maintains an even expression and even voice as she says, “Can I ask you something?”

Jingyi’s brother is silent for a moment, all of his cockiness replaced by serious curiosity, then he goes back to being his usual nonchalant self by shrugging and replying, “Go ahead.”

Xueer’s right hand hovers near the pocket where her knife is in. “Was it always part of the plan to attack Jiaqi’s mom too?”

Jingyi’s brother is quiet again. After a long, long moment of consideration, he replies, “He originally intended to do much worse.”

“I see,” Xueer says and, having heard all she needed to hear, she draws the knife from her pocket, grabs Jingyi’s brother by the neck and pulls him closer, then she jabs the knife right into the meat of his throat. She pulls him even closer as she drives the knife deeper and deeper into his throat, her face and hands now speckled with all of the blood that sputters out of his mouth and from all the blood oozing from his neck. She twists the knife in even deeper when he reaches up and tries to pry Xueer’s hands off of him with the last of his strength but he can barely curl his fingers around Xueer’s wrists. Seemingly accepting his fate, he lets go and slumps forward and Xueer lets go of the knife, catching him by his shoulders before he crashes into her. She steps back and lets go of him so he falls to the ground with a thud, his blood continuing to pour out of his neck and creating a puddle around him and Xueer.

Xueer looks down at the dead body of Jingyi’s brother lying by her feet and then at her hands slick with his blood. She walks over to the table and grabs some paper towels to wipe her hands with, then she drags her feet across the floor to go back down and meet up with her men outside, leaving the knife jammed into Jingyi’s brother’s throat.

So much for not doing anything stupid.

* * *

It’s half past two when Xueer arrives back at the penthouse. It’s a little eerie how quiet it is, and it’s just as strange seeing how empty the living room is now that Jiaqi and Q-Mi are (presumably) asleep. She shrugs that off for now and heads for her room, looking forward to just crashing and sleeping all the aching and throbbing she feels in her body away.

Xueer dumps her clothes—that is, the clothes she wore at the start of the evening—into her laundry basket then places her other set of clothes—that is, the clothes with blood all over them—into a separate bag just so they don’t get blood on the rest of her laundry. This is why she only wears black when she has to go on these kinds of operations: it’s just easier to hide and, later on, wash all of the blood away. The clothes she wore tonight are definitely going to fare better than the white shirt she was wearing on the night she got shot. There was no salvaging _that_.

She steps into the shower to scrub herself clean again even though she already cleaned up before heading back home. She makes sure to clean the underside of her fingernails to get rid of any of the blood that’s begun to cake there and doesn’t leave until there isn’t even the faintest scent of blood left lingering on her skin. She finishes up by changing her wound’s dressing, brushing her teeth, and then slipping into her pajamas before she exits the bathroom.

Xueer almost jumps out of her skin when she sees Jiaqi standing in the middle of her room with Q-Mi cradled in her arms. Q-Mi squirms out of Jiaqi’s grip as soon as she sees Xueer and runs towards Xueers, butting her head against Xueer’s leg until Xueer takes her into her arms. 

“I thought you were asleep already,” Xueer says to Jiaqi, keeping her eyes focused on Q-Mi as she pets her because because she can’t look directly at Jiaqi, not when all she’s wearing are a silk nightgown with a lace neckline and hemline and a silk robe to match. Fool that she is, she can’t help herself and she looks up just a little bit, and her face heats up when she gets an eyeful of Jiaqi’s long, long legs and all the _skin_. 

Jiaqi is, of course, aware of the effect she has on Xueer right now, and there’s a somewhat pleased twinkle in her eyes. She doesn’t say anything about it, which Xueer thinks is somehow worse than if she’d just teased her like she usually does, and just shrugs as she replies, “I couldn’t sleep, and I guess Q-Mi couldn’t either. She was just waiting for you to come back, so I figured I’d wait with her.”

Xueer scratches Q-Mi under her chin, just like she knows Q-Mi likes. Q-Mi stays still at first, revelling in all of the attention and affection she’s being given, but after a few seconds she starts squirming which means she’s gotten enough attention and affection already. Xueer sets Q-Mi back down on the floor and watches as she strolls out of the room, leaving Xueer alone with Jiaqi.

They both stay quiet for a while, looking anywhere but at each other, then Xueer softly says, “It’s done.”

Jiaqi doesn’t say anything at first. Then: “I see.”

Xueer looks up to observe Jiaqi, who’s still staring down at the floor, her arms wrapped around her body. Her fingers are curled around the sleeves of her robe, twisting the fabric. Xueer knows Jiaqi well enough now to know that there’s a storm brewing beneath the surface and the calmer Jiaqi appears (or wants to appear) to be, the stronger that storm is. It’s probably tearing her apart inside. 

After a time, Jiaqi says, “I don’t know how I feel about… about what I asked you to do. It’s all I’ve been able to think about tonight and it’s what’s kept me up, and I tried to just sort out my thoughts and put a finger on whatever it is I’ve been feeling, but I just kept coming up short. All I know is that it doesn’t feel bad, but it doesn’t feel good either.

“What I do know,” Jiaqi continues after a moment’s pause, “is that I don’t regret it. It… feels a little strange to say that and there’s still a small part of me that feels terrible about feeling that way, but…” She looks up now and holds Xueer’s gaze with the most certainty Xueer’s ever seen in her. “They went after my mom. They made it _personal._ I’d never forgive myself if I just let them get away with that.”

 _The point of no return,_ Xueer thinks, her heart feeling the heaviest it’s ever felt. Despite not wanting to see Jiaqi cross that line, she knows that what’s done is done and there’s no going back from here. It’s just like Jiaqi said: they—the Jus, Mr. Yang, the whole lot of them—made it personal when they tried to hurt Jiaqi’s mom, and there’s no way Jiaqi would have backed down from that. There’s a part of Xueer that wishes she wasn’t complicit in all of this but, then again, that’s what she’s here for and that’s what she’s good for. She can carry that weight for Jiaqi and for the both of them. She knows she shouldn’t want to, but there’s a whole lot of other things she shouldn’t want to feel and want to do for Jiaqi, and she knows she’s already way past the point of what she did tonight being a bad idea.

Jiaqi watches Xueer quietly, studiously, then her eyes soften and she says, “Come here,” and Xueer walks over to her without hesitation, slumping forward, into Jiaqi, just like Jiaqi did the other night. Jiaqi has one hand cupped around Xueer’s cheek and the other on Xueer’s neck, gently pulling her in closer, and when Xueer’s close enough she tilts her face against Xueer’s until their cheeks and noses touch. Jiaqi nuzzles Xueer again and Xueer closes her eyes, holding onto Jiaqi’s arm to keep herself grounded, a shiver running down her spine, then she opens her eyes again when Jiaqi says, “I’m sorry.”

It takes Xueer a second to understand what Jiaqi really means, and what she means is, _I’m sorry I asked you to do that for me._ With everything going on, it was so easy for Xueer to forget that she poured her heart out to Jiaqi too and admitted to her that not only does she kill people for a living, but also that she doesn’t enjoy having to do so. She understands now that Jiaqi is apologizing to her for making her do something she doesn’t really want to do, and Xueer feels her heart break a little.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” she tells Jiaqi quietly, putting her own hand atop Jiaqi’s hand on her cheek. She brushes her thumb over Jiaqi’s as she repeats in a murmur, “You don’t have to apologize for anything…” She chuckles even when there’s nothing to laugh about and nothing funny at all about the mess she’s neck-deep in now. She feels hysterical, delirious. “That’s all I know, anyway. That’s all I’m good at, and that’s all I’m good for.”

“Not to me,” Jiaqi says, softly and hurting—not for herself, but for Xueer, and those three words are all it takes for Xueer to finally crumble.

“I’m tired, Jiaqi,” Xueer confesses not just to Jiaqi, but to herself too. She’s never said those words out loud, never even allowed herself to think them, but now… now she doesn’t care anymore. She’s tired: not just physically, but mentally, emotionally; bone- and soul-deep. She knows Jiaqi understands what she means. Knows Jiaqi understands how she feels better than anyone else does right now, or ever has. “I’m so, so tired.”

“I know,” Jiaqi murmurs, patient and understanding. She kisses Xueer’s cheek then presses a kiss just by the corner of her lips and says again, “I know.” She pulls back just enough so she can look Xueer right in the eye when she says, “Let me take care of you.”

All of the wind is knocked out of Xueer’s lungs.

“Even just this once, let me take care of you.”

Xueer’s resolve snaps completely and she pulls Jiaqi’s face towards hers and kisses her, crashing into her with full force. She kisses her like her life depends on it, hungry and desperate, greedy and covetous. Jiaqi kisses her back with the same hunger and urgency, carding her fingers through Xueer’s hair to pull her closer and closer: so close they could melt into each other. 

Xueer’s head is spinning and she’s breathless, but she doesn’t want to pull away, not now and maybe not ever. The floodgates have finally lifted and she’s finally letting herself let out everything she’s been holding back—letting herself _take_ everything she’s been holding herself back from coveting. 

It’s Jiaqi who pulls away eventually, laughing breathlessly, fondly, as she says, “I like kissing you and all, but I might just pass out at this rate.”

Xueer gives herself a second to catch her breath too and, absorbing what Jiaqi had just said, she leans in for a gentler and _slower_ kiss before she pulls away again to say, “I like kissing you too.” She’s rewarded with a bright smile from Jiaqi, which only makes her lean in again to continue kissing her.

It feels like melting this time—into the kiss, into Jiaqi—but it leaves Xueer’s brain frazzled all the same. Without breaking the kiss, Xueer tugs Jiaqi’s robe off of her and lets it fall to the ground. Jiaqi takes this as her cue to start undressing Xueer too. She helps Xueer take her shirt off and tugs down on Xueer’s pajama pants while Xueer pulls up at the hem of Jiaqi’s nightgown, and it rides up along her wrist, then she gets distracted for a moment, palming all of the skin she can get her hands on.

“Impatient,” Jiaqi says against Xueer’s lips, but she’s smirking too, then she steps back to strip off her nightgown and lets it fall to the ground. She basks in Xueer’s reaction to seeing—and having—her naked. Or, well, _mostly_ naked, because there’s one last piece of clothing she has yet to get rid of. So she does just that, peeling off her underwear and letting that drop to the floor too, her smirk becoming even more wolfish. Now that she’s _completely_ naked, she asks, “Like what you see?”

Xueer’s throat goes dry and she hopelessly mumbles, “Uh,” which endears Jiaqi enough to make her laugh. Jiaqi pulls Xueer closer to her again and slides a hand down between their bodies and Xueer feels heat pulse between her own legs when Jiaqi lets her fingers trail down Xueer’s stomach before stopping by the waistband of her pajama pants. She hooks a finger around it and, face burning so hot she could fry an egg on it, Xueer murmurs, “ _Oh_ ,” and takes off the pants herself before stripping off her own underwear.

Jiaqi leans in to kiss Xueer again before she guides the both of them towards the bed and presses Xueer down against it, locking her in place when she brackets Xueer’s hips with her legs. She hovers over Xueer for a few seconds, letting her eyes wander all the way down her body with admiration and hunger in her eyes, and for the first time in Xueer’s life, she feels self-conscious. 

Jiaqi picks up on this lightning-fast. She bends down and presses her lips against Xueer’s, kissing her slowly and reassuringly, then she noses along her cheek and peppers kisses down along her jaw, then her neck, and then she softly nips at Xueer’s lower lip. She carefully touches some of the bruises on Xueer’s body: the ones she’d gotten just a few hours ago.

“I got shot a bunch of times earlier,” Xueer explains meekly, her cheeks still burning. “And punched. And kicked. And a whole lot of other things.”

It feels weird to feel self-conscious, but no one else has ever seen her in _this_ beat-up of a shape, especially not under such intimate circumstances. She didn’t ever want Yuxin to see her like this, so of course she doesn’t want Jiaqi to either. Hell, that’s why she scrubbed her skin raw until she was sure no trace or drop of blood was left: she didn’t want Jiaqi to see her like that. Didn’t want Jiaqi to see the worst of her. She can’t hide that part of herself from Jiaqi anymore, though, not when she’s lying beneath her completely naked. Hide: that’s what she wants to do now. That’s all she wants to do. She doesn’t want Jiaqi to see her or have her like this.

But Jiaqi doesn’t care about any of that, of course. Because she’s Jiaqi, and she’s lovely and wonderful and too good for this world and too good for Xueer, especially, and she says, “There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You’re beautiful.”

Xueer pushes to sit up and at first it takes Jiaqi by surprise, but after a second she relaxes and places her hands on Xueer’s shoulders for purchase. They kiss again for a while, nice and slow, and when Xueer finally gathers the courage, she lets her hands wander all over the length of Jiaqi’s body. Jiaqi gasps into her mouth when Xueer reaches up to palm her breasts, her breathing getting heavier, hotter. Despite that, she still finds the time to smile smugly and say, “So you _did_ like what you saw.”

Xueer’s head is so deep in the gutter that it takes her a hot second to realize Jiaqi’s referring to her bikini antics by the pool. It feels like it happened _ages_ ago. Disbelieving, Xueer can’t help but pout when she replies, “Was that really necessary?”

“It’s not my fault you’re cute when you get flustered,” Jiaqi counters, leaning down to peck Xueer on the lips consolingly. 

Xueer huffs and feigns offense, but really, she’s so fond of Jiaqi that it’s honestly a little overwhelming. She kisses Jiaqi, says, “I think it was pretty obvious I liked what I saw anyway,” then guides her hand down between their bodies and pushes into Jiaqi, her palm pressed tightly to Jiaqi’s clit. She moves her fingers slowly and relishes in the way Jiaqi’s voice pitches and breaks as she moans, her nails digging into Xueer’s skin as she holds onto her for purchase. Xueer is starting to feel light-headed too and her entire body feels hot, so hot that her skin could melt. She holds back the groan that wants to rip itself free from her throat to husk out, “Besides, this is definitely better than anything I could have ever imagined.”

“Who’s the tease now?” Jiaqi breathes out shakily, rolling her hips to the rhythm of every flick of Xueer’s wrist and grinding down on her fingers. She’s not shy about making Xueer know—or, well, _hear—_ how good she feels right now, and it sends blinding heat shivering down Xueer’s spine and it pools in her stomach. 

Inspired, Xueer moves her hand faster, wrapping her other arm around Jiaqi’s waist to keep her steady, but just when she thinks Jiaqi’s close, Jiaqi suddenly stops and pulls Xueer’s hand away, sighing as her fingers slip out. Dazed and confused and really just too turned on now to _process_ anything, Xueer starts, “W-what—”

Jiaqi actually looks embarrassed when she says, “Did Uncle say anything about you not being allowed to have sex because of you’re, you know,” then she gestures to Xueer’s wound.

Honestly, Xueer had almost completely forgotten about that. Xueer almost laughs but stops herself when she sees how dead serious Jiaqi is. Now feeling a little awkward and embarrassed herself, she replies, “Well, no, and it never crossed my mind to ask him about that because it’s, uh… It’d be kind of weird to talk to him about my sex life, you know.”

Jiaqi laughs and that’s enough to get rid of any of the awkwardness they’d both just felt. “That’s good,” she says, her lips curling into a smile as she gently pushes Xueer down against the mattress again, “though I’m sure we could find a way around that anyway.” When Xueer tries to push herself back up, she pins her down with one hand on her uninjured shoulder and says, “Remember what I told you earlier?”

Of course. How could Xueer ever forget?

“You can have your way with me all you want later, and god knows how much I _want_ you to,” Jiaqi tells Xueer, punctuating her promise with a kiss, “but for now, just let me take care of you,” then she’s kissing down Xueer’s stomach, the curve of her hips, and the insides of her thighs as she pushes Xueer’s legs apart and settles down between them, bracing her arms around Xueer’s thighs.

Xueer almost has a heart attack when Jiaqi looks up at her from between her legs. Jiaqi looks at her curiously, patiently. Xueer swallows down the thick lump in her throat and nods. Jiaqi presses one more kiss to the inside of Xueer’s thigh, her hot breath tickling Xueer’s skin, before she dart forward and then—

Xueer arches into Jiaqi’s mouth with a low cry, the sound of which is so surprising even to her own ears. She cards her fingers through Jiaqi’s hair, both for purchase and to keep Jiaqi’s mouth where she wants it. Her stomach stutters and her hips buck when Jiaqi curls her tongue up and she screams her throat hoarse when Jiaqi sucks on her clit, moving her tongue in quick circles. Her face is half-buried in the sheets at this point and she’s sure she could rip the fabric from how hard she’s clinging onto it with her other hand. 

What _really_ does her in, though, is when Jiaqi curls two fingers inside her as she thrust her tongue in deeper, licking into her over and over, relentlessly, unstopping. Once she establishes a rhythm between the movements of her fingers and her tongue, Jiaqi gets even more fired up and fucks Xueer _in earnest_ now, and she’s as earnest about this as she is about everything else. Xueer finds herself feeling a little oddly fond over that, but that doesn’t last very long because another ragged groan rips itself from her throat and she feels the buzz just below her skin turns into a brutal, violent roar and her body is now wound so tight she feels like even just a puff of Jiaqi’s breath against her oversensitive skin could snap her in half. Her skin feels like it’s on fire and the air in her lungs is so thin that her head starts to feel light again.

She’s close. She’s so, so, _so_ agonizingly close. Just a little more and—

Xueer lets out a sharp and frustrated noise when Jiaqi suddenly pulls away. She looks down and finds Jiaqi looking back up at her, her mouth wet and glistening and Xueer doesn’t know how she manages not to die right then and there when Jiaqi licks her lips, a dark and heady and self-satisfied glint in her eyes. 

She knows what Jiaqi wants. Knows that she isn’t just stopping to admire her work. 

A fucking _tease_ right to the end, that’s what Jiaqi is, but Xueer can’t get herself to be mad at her for it even if she tried.

“Jiaqi,” Xueer whines, her throat scraped so raw at this point that her voice comes out so rough, “ _please,_ ” and that does the trick, because Jiaqi dives right back in and gets back to work, and Xueer’s nails are digging painfully into Jiaqi’s scalp now but Jiaqi stays where she is, undeterred, and now she’s clenching her thighs tight around Jiaqi’s head, and then—

Before Xueer knows it, she’s sailing over the edge, her orgasm sweeping through her like a hurricane, and she’s seeing stars for a solid minute at least. She squeezes her eyes shut while she catches her breath, and when the haze of arousal recedes and all of her senses come flooding back, she opens her eyes and stares up at the ceiling.

She’s _really_ in trouble now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes:
> 
>   1. [This](https://www.socalbmwmc.com/2018/09/04/bmws-r-ninet-scrambler-appears-in-thrilling-scene-in-mission-impossible-fallout/) is the motorcycle I chose for Xueer. It was also featured in _Mission: Impossible — Fallout_ , which is an awesome action movie and one I would highly recommend everyone to watch.
>   2. Xueer actually mentioned how she really wanted a pet cat when she was younger, which you can read about [here](https://twitter.com/keyinxies/status/1258324806828580869/).
>   3. Not really related to anything in the fic, but I think [this interview](https://twitter.com/kongSnowflakes/status/1335919060668706816/) is great and really gives some wonderful insight on Xueer.
>   4. While the previous chapter was heavily influenced by _Cowboy Bebop_ , this chapter was heavily influenced by the Cinemax series _Warrior_ , which is one of my favorite shows right now. It's criminally underrated and I really recommend it to everyone. It's just so good and such a great time.
> 

> 
> And, finally, the soundtracks of this chapter:
> 
> \- ['Closer'](https://youtu.be/O7gRpIKfSCM/) by Nine Inch Nails (again, because this song is awesome)  
> \- ['Beauty School'](https://youtu.be/PAquwZoOT-U) by Deftones (...I'm sure you can all figure out where I imagined this song would play if this chapter were an episode after you read this chapter)
> 
> [YouTuber voice] Don’t forget to hit the kudos button if you liked this chapter! All comments are welcome and greatly appreciated, and they keep me going whenever I find myself in a rut and all that, and they definitely give me the motivation and encouragement I need especially given how much goes into writing a chapter for this fic. If you'd like to support me and my works, you can check out my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/maximalist_ao3/) to find out how.
> 
> Thank you, as always, for your continued support, and see you all in the next chapter! :)


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